Kathy Hogan Trocheck - Truman Kicklighter 02 - Crash Course, page 26
part #2 of Truman Kicklighter Series
They made an unlikely pair, did LeeAnn Pilker and Billy Tripp. Everybody had been surprised, none more than Billy, when, two days after the Weedon Island affair, LeeAnn walked into the Tampa field office, and volunteered that she’d heard Ronnie Bondurant and Wormy Weems discussing the murder of Jeff Cantrell.
Later, after all the interviews and affidavits were over, Billy had followed LeeAnn out to the parking lot.
“You came back,” he said wonderingly, trying not to stare at her bruised face and ruined teeth. “I never thought I’d see you again. Aren’t you afraid…?”
LeeAnn looked right into his eyes, not shy about taking in his own injuries. “You saved my life, back there at the car lot. Ronnie would have killed you for sure, if he’d figured out you’d untied me and had me slip out through the garage. Nobody ever did anything like that for me before. It got me to thinking. Maybe my life was worth saving. And maybe this is where I start over.”
She’d quit her job at the strip club. With Jackie’s help, she’d started waitressing at The Fountain of Youth, and was taking classes at the Vo-Tech School to become a medical transcriptionist. And at some point, she’d finally given in and gone out on a date with Billy. Since that time, the two had been inseparable.
“Hey, TK,” Ollie said, strolling into the lobby. “Let’s get this party started, can we? I’m starved.”
Ollie’s thinning hair had been combed neatly across the top of his high forehead, and he wore a loud brown and tan checked suit that he’d been saving for “a special deal” ever since finding it on clearance in the boy’s department at the homeless mission thrift shop. He’d even pinned a pink silk carnation on the lapel of his coat.
“Hang on, Ollie,” “Truman said. “We can’t exactly get started without the bride now, can we?”
The plate glass lobby door opened just then, and Margaret McCutchen strode in, followed by half a dozen ladies from the Great Books Club, all of them bearing foil-covered casseroles, pie-plates and cake carriers.
“Sorry to be late,” Margaret said, kissing Truman brazenly on the lips. “The girls all insisted on bringing ‘a little something’ even though I assured them the caterer would have plenty of food.”
“Not at all,” Truman said magnanimously, hoping that at least one of those carriers contained Maggie’s amazing pound cake.
Margaret, he thought, looked splendid. She wore a soft green silk dress, belted at the waist, and around her neck she wore the same pearls he’d given Nellie on their wedding day. The pearls had been Cheryl’s idea.
“I’m never going to wear them,” she’d assured Truman, insisting he take the blue velvet covered box. “You bought me my own pearls, for my twenty-first birthday, remember? And anyway, I think mama would want Margaret to have them.”
Margaret had been touched, especially since, she pointed out; they weren’t actually getting married, not technically anyway.
Bless her heart; Margaret was just as practical and thrifty as Truman. They’d been keeping steady company all that fall. It seemed perfectly natural that he would just stay over at her condo, on evenings when they’d had dinner and a glass of wine, and then watched a movie.
He’d broached the idea of marriage in October, on a cool evening, on a park bench at Mirror Lake.
“I’m flattered, but marriage is out of the question,” Maggie said briskly. “We’re not kids, Truman. I have my own property and pension, and you have your social security and your pension from the wire service. Think of the tax repercussions if we marry! And all the paperwork. You should just move in here with me. I’ve got air conditioning. And cable.”
Truman had blustered and blushed. “What would Cheryl say? What would I tell Chip? I can’t just live in sin with you. It’s not right!”
Cheryl, as it turned out, thought it was a fine idea. “Maggie’s right, Dad,” she’d said, when he’d delicately raised the subject. “It’s not like you two are going to have children, right? And anyway, you don’t have to worry about what Chip thinks. He knows his granddad is a good person.”
So here they were, in the lobby at The Fountain of Youth. Truman had insisted on a ceremony, even if it wasn’t going to be a wedding, per se.
They lined themselves up in front of the rock-walled fountain, which Jackie had mysteriously managed to get turned on again after decades of disuse. Frank Boore, a balding retired Methodist minister who’d just moved into the hotel after retiring from Buffalo, took Truman’s hand and placed it atop Margaret’s.
The fountain burbled. Margaret glowed. Truman was vaguely aware that he was grinning like a kid, but he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop smiling. He knew the room was full of family and friends, but he couldn’t see their faces. Only Margaret’s. Her clear blue eyes twinkled like sapphires, her lips twitched with suppressed mirth.
Truman heard Rev. Boore read some Bible verses, and there was something to the effect that they should honor and respect each other all the remaining days of their lives.
And then it was done. “You may … “
Truman stopped him right there. “I’ve got it, Rev.”
The kiss was a doozie. Everybody applauded. Especially after Margaret turned, and looking straight at the Great Book Club girls, announced. “He’s kissed his last widow.”
OTHER BOOKS BY KATHY HOGAN TROCHECK
Happy Never After
“Fast paced, entertaining.”
—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“Callahan and her cohort of continuing characters (her mom, Edna; the ancient cleaning ladies Baby and Sister) are great company. If Happy Never After were a song, we’d all be dancing in the streets.”
—San Jose Mercury News
The Callahan Garrity Mysteries
Every Crooked Nanny
To Live & Die in Dixie
Homemade Sin
Heart Trouble
Happy Never After
Strange Brew
Midnight Clear
Irish Eyes
A Truman Kicklighter Mystery
Crash Course
BOOKS WRITTEN AS MARY KAY ANDREWS
Summer Rental
The Fixer Upper
Deep Dish
Blue Christmas
Savannah Breeze
Hissy Fit
Little Bitty Lies
Savannah Blues
Kathy Hogan Trocheck, Kathy Hogan Trocheck - Truman Kicklighter 02 - Crash Course
