Reviewers:
Kath – Ah, Kath, my faithful reader, so glad you're still enjoying the story. Yep, they're cousins. I wanted a female character who could not only stand up to Lucas, but who also wouldn't be swayed by his seductive charms. Who better than a relative who grew up around him?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ronilyn clawed at the blankets, fighting the images that forced themselves upon her. A sheriff's star spinning. A wide-eyed boy in a striped shirt. Lucas's voice: "I'm just lookin' out for your best interests, darlin'." Her mother screaming, then staring out the hospital window, silent and distant. A man wearing black, holding a bible. A woman falling down a flight of stairs. The headstone of a grave that was too far away for her to read. A large black crow cawing and swooping down from the sky.
She sat straight up in the bed, heart pounding. Sunlight peeked around the shades hanging in the window and Ronilyn peered at her watch on the nightstand. Eight o'clock. She fell back onto the bed with a thud. The dream was longer and more vivid since she returned to Trinity, and somehow she doubted it was from the two chili dogs she ate last night.
With a sigh, Ronilyn untangled herself from the blankets and padded over to the window. She lifted the window shade and saw Mrs. Broomley sweeping off her porch across the street. She had spoken briefly with the woman upon coming home last night. Close to seventy, Mrs. Broomley had lived in Trinity in that very house her entire life. She'd preceded the women's movement, having been the first woman on the City Council while balancing life as a mother and wife before such things were fashionable. When her children left home, she found replacements in the students she taught at Trinity Elementary School.
Through it all, that porch stayed spotless. Ronilyn remembered Mrs. Broomley sweeping the afternoon she left for college in Illinois and the morning she returned to Trinity to watch her father die. She was only a toddler when her mother was taken away, but she was certain Mrs. Broomley had been sweeping her steps that day too.
Sweep, sweep, sweep. Sweep away the troubles. Ronilyn sighed again, wishing it was that easy. She looked over toward the tree she used to climb as a child. A large black crow perched on one of the long branches extended toward the house. It tilted its head and cackled, as it appraised her with one eye.
Ronilyn stumbled away from the window and let the shade fall back into place. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Calm down," she said aloud.
She showered, dressed and ate breakfast before leaving the house. After a quick glance up at the tree for the crow, Ronilyn scattered bread crumbs near the trunk. Several birds swooped down for the feast. Ronilyn waved at Mrs. Broomley, who was now seated in her porch swing, gently swaying. She had barely walked to the end of the block when a police car pulled up alongside.
"Need a ride?"
Ronilyn lowered her sunglasses and squinted. "Ben? Ben, what are you doing here?"
"Lucas wanted me to swing by the house on the way in this mornin' and make sure everything was okay."
"You're kidding."
"Nope. So do you want a ride, or not?"
Ronilyn pushed her sunglasses back up. "Well, hell, why not," she said, getting into the car. "I was going to walk over to the library, but you can drop me off there if it's not too much trouble."
"No problem. It's on the way."
Ronilyn settled into the seat. "Ben, how come no one called me when Lucas died a couple of months ago?"
"Huh?" Ben looked at her, then back at the road.
"Don't you think I should've been notified before you guys stuck him into the ground? I am his cousin, after all. Lucas doesn't exactly have a lot of relatives."
Ben gave her a sideways glance. "Well, notifyin' folks wasn't my job. I think..."
"Or were you all just so eager to bury him, you decided to skip the formalities and get right down to the funeral?"
"Ronilyn! That's a terrible thing to say." The car swerved slightly out of the traffic lane. "I'll have you know we had a real fine funeral for him," Ben said. "Besides, he wasn't really dead."
"Oh, so I guess checking for a pulse and a heartbeat was one of those formalities to be skipped?"
The tires squealed as Ben made a rather sharp turn. "It wasn't like that at all," he protested, as Ronilyn braced herself against the dashboard with one arm. "He'd been given this drug that made it look like he was dead and..."
"Alright. Never mind," she said, deciding to change the subject before Ben's driving sent *her* to an early grave. "Forget about the Resurrection Man. I've been hearing a lot of talk about who the mayor's going to appoint to the City Council. What do you think?" Ronilyn asked.
"What do you mean?" Ben shot her another glance.
"Hey, people were talking about all sorts of things in the grocery store last night," Ronilyn said. "You ever want to catch up on the latest gossip in town just hang out in the produce aisle. Anyway, from what I understand, this Councilman Stiles chaired the Finance Committee, so he had a lot of clout. It's too bad he had that accident."
"Yeah. Too bad." Ben remained focused on the road in front of him.
Ronilyn watched him thoughtfully. "I heard the mayor's supposed to appoint someone in the next few days to take his place on the council. Who do you suppose it'll be?"
Ben shrugged.
"I'm sure Lucas has some ideas on that," she said.
"Lucas always has ideas," he mumbled.
"Ben, did this Councilman Stiles do something to make Lucas mad?"
The deputy pulled up abruptly in front of the library and Ronilyn's head slammed back against the car seat.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," she said, rubbing the back of her head. "Is this payback for me whacking you with my purse yesterday?"
Ben switched off the ignition and swiveled around in his seat to look at her. "Ronilyn, why are you askin' so many questions? Are you tryin' to get me in trouble?"
"No, of course not," she said, touching his arm lightly. "I'm just looking for the truth."
"Truth? In this town?" He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Good luck findin' it."
"What did Stiles do?"
Ben sat back in his seat.
"Come on, Ben." She leaned forward. "I've been away for a long time, not counting visits home for holidays and birthdays... and my dad's funeral. I remember how Lucas was when I was a kid. I need to know what he's capable of now."
"You don't want to know," Ben said, folding his arms across his chest. She waited. He gave a long sigh. "Stiles...he was gonna cut our budget way down. Said there was too much money goin' to the sheriff's department and nothin' to show for it. Practically accused Lucas of pocketin' the money."
She gave a low whistle. "And, of course, Lucas didn't like that."
"Hell, *I* didn't like it," Ben said, looking over at her. "We would've had to let some people go. Cut back on equipment. We needed that money. That doesn't mean anyone did anything about it. The man's alcohol level was way over the limit. Stiles crashed his own car."
Ronilyn raised her eyebrows. "Who are you trying to convince, Ben? Me or yourself?"