Free Something Bad by RICHARD SATTERLIE Page B

baby.
    Yes, I have talked with Horace, but I won’t tell you everything he said. To be blunt, he has no intention of coming back. But believe me. You’ll be better off without him. He’s developed quite a drug habit, and he supports it through petty theft and the arrangement of delivery of sexual favors by his current girlfriend.”
    “Jesus. If you don’t want to rile me, you have a funny way of showing it. Why are you telling me this?” Tears rolled on her cheeks as sobs interrupted her breathing. “Why should I believe you?”
    “I’m so sorry. I’ve known Horace Murtry for some time, longer than you have. He’s always been headed down the path of self-destruction, and I feel bad that I didn’t step in to warn you before now. So I feel a little responsible for your current situation and for the well being of your child. I owe you that much.”
    Deena Lee wanted to hit him. She wanted to hit any man within reach—maybe even go out of her way to find men to hit. “You’ve done me no favors today. I need some time by myself. Would you please leave?”
    “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. I just felt you should know, sooner rather than later.” He put the bottle of vitamins on the stump and rotated on the heel of one foot and the toes of the other. He rounded the corner of the building and a stiff gust of wind bent the bushes in his direction.
    Deena Lee collapsed on the log. Her left hand gripped and squeezed the vitamin bottle like it was Horace’s neck.
    The bell above the door jingled Deena Lee’s entry and Teddy looked up through a burst of smoke from the grill. “Deena Lee. What happened?” He rounded the half-wall and hand-springed the counter. “You all right?”
    “I’ll be fine.” She faked a smile. “Can I have the rest of the day off? I need to forget a man. Shouldn’t take much more than that, the bastard.”
    Teddy put an arm around her shoulder. “Take what you need. Just give me a call if you won’t be in tomorrow morning.” He gave her a hug.
    Deena Lee swiveled her hips onto the seat of her Volkswagen and inched her legs under the steering wheel. She looked up into the rearview mirror, which was already bent her way, and adjusted her hair. “I wonder if there’s a man out there who ain’t just trying to get something from a woman,” she said to the image. She looked down and patted her stomach. “If you’re a boy, I’ll have to teach you how to love a woman. If you’re a girl, I’ll have to teach you how to teach it.” She turned the key and pumped the gas pedal several times until the engine caught.
    Tires bit pavement and Deena Lee’s thoughts went back to her baby. What should she call him? She and Horace never did get married, but she had to say they did or the locals never would have accepted them. Now, she was stuck with the story, so she had to keep the name, Murtry, and give it to her child.
    She stomped the brake pedal and the car skidded to a stop on the shoulder of the road. She threw open the door, stood, and leaned against it. Looking up at the sky, she screamed as loud as she could. “Bastard.” She patted her stomach. “Not you, darlin’.”

CHAPTER
     

10
     
    H AZEL J OHNSON TRIED to calm herself as she walked down Main Street toward the four-way stop. The night was clear and moonless, and the dim glow of a distant streetlight stretched her faint shadow into the darkness ahead. During a town meeting over a year ago, she voted in favor of turning off two of every three streetlights to save money for the town, but now she wished she hadn’t.
    She felt the hair on her arms elevate against a chill that wasn’t related to the temperature; the evening didn’t require a jacket. The clandestine nature of her mission required all of the nerve she could muster, and some that was borrowed against the future of her livelihood. She had to do something. Now.
    She turned left at the four-way and slowed her steps as she passed the front of the church. The corner