Read Online 3 A Brewski for the Old Man by Phyllis Smallman - Free Book Online Page A

he’d do or how he’d react. No telling what rocket he’d go off on if I told him this. Someone would have died for certain.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Pretty much.” I rubbed a bite of pain in my forehead. “I spent my childhood worrying about the adults around me, adults who acted more like kids than I did. One time, when I was about seven or eight, Daddy came out late at night and started shooting a gun off outside our trailer. Dead drunk, of course — he mostly was back then — he kept calling for the new man in my mom’s life to come out.
    “It was dark, probably after midnight. I remember waking up and thinking this was it, this time he was going to kill us all. It always seemed a possibility with my dad. I hid in my closet, pulling clothes over me and hoping he wouldn’t find me. That’s where my mother, Ruth Ann, unearthed me, still curled up in a ball afraid to come out.
    “The new guy sharing her bed had already taken off, didn’t even stop to pack. I heard his car leaving as Ruth Ann carried me back to her bed. You see what I mean? If I’d told my dad he would have killed Ray John. For sure. Maybe it would have been a good thing. Back then it didn’t seem such a good idea. I didn’t want Daddy to go to jail, although it wouldn’t have been a new experience for him, that’s for sure.”
    “And your mother didn’t tell your father you’d been abused?”
    “Nope, no way Ruth Ann was going to give Tully Jenkins anything to get excited about. She knew even better than I did what a powder keg he was.”
    “A kid shouldn’t have to think about things like that, shouldn’t have to worry about what their parents are capable of…shouldn’t know the wickedness of men like Leenders.”
    “Yeah, well life isn’t perfect.” I was starting to worry about the amount of time Lacey had been gone. Teenage girls like mirrors but this was getting silly.
    “There’s no record of sexual abuse on Ray John’s file. Your mother should have told the police when they came.”
    “Remember I come from people who aren’t real comfortable telling the police anything. Ruth Ann was afraid that social services would get involved and take me away. We would have been worked over twice, once by Ray John and then by the authorities. Better to look after things ourselves.”
    Styles’ eyes slipped to the door of the john; he was getting antsy too. “Those days are gone, Sherri. Now you have to let the law handle it.” He tilted his head towards the ladies room. “Think she’s all right?”
    “I’ll check,” I said and started to slide out of the booth. Styles’ hand on my arm stopped me. He picked up his glass and dragged on the watery dregs as Lacey slid back in beside me.
    She seemed remarkably better, more composed, calm almost. Now call me suspicious, call me a worrier, but I’ve seen too much trouble not to know something else was going on here.
    I was about to find out there was one more problem to deal with…a great big ugly one.

C H A P T E R 1 2
    Styles followed us back to the condo. He didn’t need to suggest we stay in the ultra-secure building for the night, I’d already decided on that. We weren’t even going for a walk on the beach. The sand would burn your feet anyway. It had been another scorching day and I’d seen enough fireworks for one day. I just wanted to chill, didn’t even want to talk about what had happened. Lacey had enough pain without me prodding the wound. “Let’s have a swim,” I said. The private pool down on the beach was surrounded by an eight-foot-high spiked wrought-iron fence that kept everyone but the residents of the Tradewinds out. Safe. “No, thanks.”
    “It will make you feel better.”
    “I’ve got this sore arm,” she said, rubbing her arm just above the elbow. Lacey always, even in the hottest weather, wore long-sleeved blouses. Her eyes were deeking and diving, her shoulders were hunched.
    I grabbed her arm and pushed up the sleeve of her oversized