Madness In Maggody

He grabbed my arm and pulled me off the porch and away from the house. "What's purported about it?" he said in a low voice, keeping an eye on the front door.

"I questioned her last night, and she said she was alone Monday night, doing her nails and watching a movie. She said she hadn't seen you in a long time, and even asked how you were doing."

"That little bitch! She knows damn well I was there. Are you sure you questioned the right person?"

"Airport Arms Apartments, top floor on the end," I said, shrugging. "She said she was Crate, but I didn't demand to see her driver's license."

"Blond hair and two-inch fingernails?"

"She had a towel on her head, so I didn't see her hair. I did see the fingernails, though. They were rather striking."

"That's her." Jim Bob began to pace between the shrubs, his brow wrinkled and his mouth twisted to one side. "And she said she hadn't seen me anytime lately, did she? I've got a hundred witnesses who could say different. Jesus H. Christ, I du

"You have no idea where he is?"

"If I knew where he was, I wouldn't be neck-deep in shit! I'd be dragging him back so we get this straightened out." He banged his fist against his palm, no doubt wishing Petrel's face was available.

"The state police will find him eventually," I said. "But I have to know what happened Monday night. Why did you send Buzz to make the deposit?"

"What the fuck difference does it…" He stopped pacing and looked down at the lawn for a moment, his eyes narrowed with thought. "Petrel's car still parked at the Flamingo Motel?"

"As far as I know." I waited for him to continue, but he gave me a studiously flat look and I couldn't for the life of me guess what he was up to. "Does that tell you something?" I said at last.

"Yeah. He didn't drive it away. Listen, I got better things to do than stand here answering a bunch of dumb questions. I sent Milvin to Starley City 'cause it was too damn much trouble to go myself. I don't know why Cherri Lucinda said I wasn't there, but it's not a big deal one way or the other. I didn't stick pins in the cupcakes. Run along and do something useful, Chief. Peel dead animals off the highway or bust one of the kids for smoking pot. Better yet, see if you can teach that runty team of yours how to play baseball. The game's still on, ain't it?"

He strutted across the porch and went into the house. I'd had such impressive success with my three witnesses that I knew absolutely nothing I hadn't known before, except that Dahlia and Kevin had had a spat, Jim Bob was in financial trouble if Petrel stayed gone, and the game was still scheduled for Thursday afternoon.

Heather Riley gaped at Darla Jean, her jaw going up and down as if she was chewing taffy. "Say that again," she said in a stu

"Now I'm only trying to talk to you for your own good, Heather, 'cause it's not healthy to keep stuff like that bottled up inside you. It'll give you ulcers, and your grades will go down and you'll get kicked off the pom-pom squad."

"Just repeat what you said," Heather commanded.

"I heard Elsie McMay tell my ma about what that horrible man did to you," Darla Jean said, worried that she ought not to have brought up the subject if Heather didn't want to talk about it, after all. But she had, so she plunged ahead and explained to Heather about hearing that she'd been raped by Lamont Petrel and run down by a truck and been so traumatized that she hadn't told anybody.

Heather hugged herself as she listened to the story, and when Darla Jean ran down, she merely said, "So I'm traumatized, huh?"

"It's most likely caused amnesia. That's my opinion, 'cause I saw a show on television where the exact same thing happened. Staci said she thought maybe you just wanted to spare Beau Swiggins from having to beat the guy up, but Rene and Debbi and Melanie all agreed that was stupid, because Beau's bound to find out sooner or later."

"Beau doesn't know?"

"Of course not, Heather! You think we'd talk about you behind your back?"

"Is he still dating that Janine from Emmet with the big boobs and fat ankles?"

"Yeah, but Billy Dick said he asked if you've dated anybody since you two broke up. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Billy Dick said Beau said he'd beat the shit out of anybody that even asked you out."

"Is Janine putting out for him?" Heather asked. When Darla jean nodded, she said, "All the way?"

"But I think he still loves you. He's just going with Janine to get back at you for not being a cheerleader for the SuperSavers. Billy Dick shared the beer with him, but it wasn't the same, I guess."

"I guess not," Heather said distractedly. The lurid story had upset her initially, along with the knowledge that every last soul in town-except for Beau, apparently-had been discussing it nonstop. Somehow Jim Bob putting his hand on her knee had now escalated into some guy named Petrel raping her on the office floor and leaving her traumatized to the point of amnesia.

She considered the possibility that she had been raped and then blocked it out, but decided that was nonsense because she remembered every last second of the tacky interview. She'd stomped out of the office and was stomping home when she ran into Miss Estes, who'd noticed Heather's red cheeks and mentioned the risk of heatstroke and so had ended up hearing about Jim Bob.

And Beau was doing it with Janine, who'd do it with her pa and all her uncles if they asked nicely. It wasn't Beau's fault he was going with a slut who probably flopped down on her back, spread her knees, and told him it was open house.

He'd been pissed when she refused to be a cheerleader, and he'd even said she was just a prude and a cockteaser who wouldn't prove that she loved him by taking a blanket to a particular place beside Boone Creek where a lot of love was proved on a nightly basis and quite a bit more on weekends.

But how was he going to feel when he found out she had been raped and was currently amnesiated? Awful. He'd feel downright awful and be sorry and beg her to go steady again.

"Are you okay?" Darla Jean asked. "You have the fu

Heather massaged her temples and, without a whole lot of effort, assumed a bewildered expression. "I think I am, but just bits and pieces. It's kinda like a puzzle with a whole lot of pieces missing. The trauma's still there, just like you said, but I'm in a foggy tu

Darla Jean was impressed. "That's spooky, ain't it? Can you remember what he did when he threw you down on the floor? Did you cry or kick him? Did it…hurt when he…did it?"

"It hurt something terrible. It was the worst thing in my entire life, and I'm just going to have to face it before I develop ulcers." She looked down at her bedspread while she did some more remembering. "I struggled with all my might. I yelled and kicked, but he held my wrists in one hand while he ripped off my clothes with the other."

"Oh, my gawd," Darla Jean said. She sat down next to Heather and patted her knee. "Then what happened?"

"I cried out for Beau," she said simply. "It was silly, of course, 'cause there weren't no way he could hear me and come save me from being brutalized by that monster."

"He's go

"But we can't let him find out. You've got to swear to keep this between you and me, Darla Jean. Beau'd get so upset, he'd go kill the guy, then he couldn't play football and maybe get a college scholarship. It'd ruin his life."