Bare Bones Read Free

believe that, had spent al morning taking the opposite position with Tim Larabee. ButSlidel was so irritating I found myself playing devil’s advocate.

    “Right. And the chamber of commerce wil probably name her mother of the year.”

    “Have you met Tamela?” I asked, forcing my voice level.

    “No. Have you?”

    No. I ignoredSlidel ’s question.

    “Have you met any of the Banks family?”

    “No, but I took statements from folks who were snorting lines in the next room while Tamela incinerated her kid.”Slidel pocketed the keys. “Excusez-moiif I haven’t dropped in for tea with the lady and her relations.”

    “You’ve never had to deal with any of the Banks kids because they were raised with good, solid values. Gideon Banks is as straitlaced as—”

    “The mutt Tamela’s screwing ain’t close to straight up.”

    “The baby’s father?”

    “Unless Miss Hot Pants was entertaining while Daddy was dealing.”

    Easy!The man is a cockroach.

    “Who is he?”

    “His name is Darryl Tyree. Tamela was shacking up in Tyree’s little piece of heaven out onSouth Tryon .”

    “Tyree sel s drugs?”

    “And we’re not talking the Eckerd’s pharmacy.”Slidel hit the door handle and got out.

    I bit back a response.One hour. It’s over.

    A stab of guilt. Over for me, but what about Gideon Banks? What about Tamela and her dead baby?

    I joinedSlidel on the sidewalk.

    “Je-zus. It’s hot enough to burn a polar bear’s butt.”

    “It’s August.”

    “I should be at the beach.”

    Yes, I thought. Under four tons of sand.

    I fol owedSlidel up a narrow walk littered with fresh-mown grass to a smal cement stoop. He pressed a thumb to a rusted button beside the front door, dug a hanky from his back pocket, and wiped his face.

    No response.

    Slidel knocked on a wooden portion of the screen door.

    Nothing.

    Slidel knocked again. His forehead glistened and his hair was separating into wet clumps.

    “Police, Mr. Banks.”

    Slidel banged with the heel of his hand. The screen door rattled in its frame.

    “Gideon Banks!”

    Condensation dripped from a window AC to the left of the door. A lawn mower whined in the distance. Hip-hop drifted from somewhere up the block.

    Slidel banged again. A dark crescent winked from his gray polyester armpit.

    “Anyone home?”

    The AC’s compressor kicked on. A dog barked.

    Slidel yanked the screen.

    Whrrrrp!

    Pounded on the wooden door.

    Bam! Bam! Bam!

    Released the screen. Barked his demand.

    “Police! Anyone there?”

    Across the street, a curtain flicked, dropped back into place.

    Had I imagined it?

    A drop of perspiration rol ed down my back to join the others soaking my bra and waistband.

    At that moment my cel phone rang.

    I answered.

    That cal swept me into a vortex of events that ultimately led to my taking a life.

2
    “TEMPEBRENNAN.”

    “Pig pickin’!” My daughter gave a series of guttural snorts. “Barbecue!”

    “Can’t talk now, Katy.”

    I turned a shoulder toSlidel , pressing the cel phone tight to my ear to hear Katy over the static.

    Slidel knocked again, this time with Gestapo force. “Mr. Banks!”

    “I’l pick you up at noon tomorrow,” Katy said.

    “I know nothing about cigars,” I said, speaking as softly as I could. Katy wanted me to accompany her to a picnic given by the owner of a cigar and pipe store. I had no idea why.

    “You eat barbecue.”

    Bam! Bam! Bam!The screen door danced in its frame.

    “Yes, bu—”

    “You like bluegrass.” Katy could be persistent.

    At that moment the inner door opened and a woman scowled through the screen. Though he had an inch on her in height, the woman hadSlidel hands down in poundage.

    “Is Gideon Banks at home?”Slidel barked.

    “Who askin’?”

    “Katy, I’ve got to go,” I whispered.

    “Boyd’s looking forward to this. There’s something he wants to discuss with you.” Boyd is my estranged husband’s dog. Conversations with or about