Free Bill Fitzhugh - Fender Benders by Bill Fitzhugh

office but he didn’t have any solutions for Jimmy’s
problems.
    Perhaps it was just that Megan had been captivated by
Eddie’s performance that night.   God
knows he was good looking.   And standing
on stage in the spotlight with that beautiful guitar and that damn smile of
his, well, Jimmy couldn’t compete with that.   It made him wonder suddenly if he really had a chance with Megan.   Writers weren’t sexy the way musicians were,
especially unknown writers.   No one wants
to watch a writer perform his craft, since it pretty much looks like
typing.   But girls do like a handsome man
with a guitar.   For that matter, they
seem to like any sort of man with one.   Even Keith Richards has groupies for Christ’s sake.
    Jimmy sneered back at Elvis.   Maybe he wasn’t giving Megan the sort of attention she deserved.   That was probably it.   It was a simple problem with a simple
solution.   He made a note to take Megan
flowers the next time he saw her.   With
that, he returned his attention to the article he was writing.   It was a piece on the Mississippi Delta Fried
Catfish Blues Festival.   He’d finished a
first draft, about fifteen hundred words.   Now all he had to do was cut a third of it.   He stared at the screen for ten minutes but
he couldn’t concentrate.   Dammit.   He had the distinct feeling, an instinct
really, that the problem with Megan wasn’t going to be solved with
flowers.   He started to wonder if Megan
was thinking about him or Eddie.   He
started to replay the Biloxi scene
in his head.   Was she being polite to
Eddie because he had just finished a show or was it more than that?
    The next thing he knew he was dialing her work number.   He got voice mail and thought about hanging
up, but then he made the mistake of saying, “Hi, it’s me.”   Then he froze, couldn’t think of what to
say.   Try
to sound relaxed , he thought, like
none of this matters , like you could take her or leave
her .   “Uh, you know I’ve been wondering
if you…”   Jimmy stopped.   He couldn’t believe it.   He’d almost asked if she’d been thinking
about Eddie.   “Uh, this is going to sound
weird, and maybe I shouldn’t leave this, but I was wondering, the other night
at the casino, was it just me or, I guess what I’m asking is if you’re more
interested in, well, oh, hell I never should have started this.   Forget you heard this.   Is there a button to erase this shit?   Uh, call me.”   He hung up.   He felt like an
idiot.
     
 
    15.

 
    When the toxicology reports came back, the sheriff called
Henry Teasdale and Eddie.   He asked them
to come down to the jail.   They sat in
the sheriff’s office.   Eddie looked like
he was still in shock.   He had the dazed
countenance of a lottery winner who didn’t think he deserved to win.   He responded to questions with nods and
shrugs and an occasional “yeah” or “I don’t think so.”   Henry short-stopped most of the questions,
thinking there was no reason for his cuckold son-in-law to go through more than
he already had.   But there were some
questions Eddie had to answer, like whether he knew Tammy was having an affair.
    Eddie looked up, wounded and confused.   “No, sir.   I didn’t.”   His voice was small and distant.   He still couldn’t believe things had ended the way they had.
    “Well, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but we know for
a fact she was.   In fact, she’d been with
someone the day she died.”   He looked
down at his hands folded on his desk.   “Now if we knew who she was seein’, we could compel a blood test and
that might help us clear some things up, but if you don’t know who it was…
”
    Eddie shook his head slowly.   “I didn’t know.”   He continued
staring straight ahead, remaining expressionless even as the sheriff explained
that Tammy had died of poisoning and that she’d been shot after she was already
dead.   Eddie didn’t react other than