Killing Joe

Chapter 11

"Do you want to tell me what happened now?" Duane asked April-May in a quiet voice. After Clint had gotten back with the soup, he and Duane had managed to rouse the stranger enough to get a few mouthfuls into the kid. Satisfied, they had helped settle him back down beneath the warm blankets just as Betty-Ann came back, dressed in a thick, white terrycloth bathrobe. A few minutes later April-May had finally come out of the bathroom, dressed similarly.

Now as Clint and Betty-Ann dozed on the other bed in the small room, Duane finally got a chance to talk to his girlfriend. He was sure the other girl had already given Clint the scoop, as he had heard their soft murmuring.

"I got scared," the brunette admitted, finding it hard to meet her boyfriend's gentle gaze. She toyed with a loose thread on the blanket as her eyes strayed across the slumbering face of the kid. "I just – when you asked me – I just got scared."

"Of me?" Duane pressed, his dark eyes searching her pretty face as she continued looking at the blond boy.

"No," April-May admitted, "of me. I was afraid that as soon as I said 'yes' it would be over. So I ran."

"Over?" the cowboy asked shaking his head slightly, "I'm not sure I understand, darlin'".

"I just wanted to do something exciting, one more time, you know?" Hazel eyes finally met his imploring gaze, "kinda like the final letting loose before – well, before getting married."

Duane chuckled softly and then reached out with a weathered hand and gently stroked her pale face. "So you did this?" He cast a quick glance at the boy.

"Well, not exactly," she admitted, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch, "he was an added bonus." She sighed and looked at the man. "The car broke down and we saw a truck coming towards us. I hid while Betty-Ann stayed on the road. It was a couple of randy guys, so we took their truck for the ride. Turns out they had this kid trussed up like a turkey in the back—" Her gaze softened as she looked at the 'bonus.' "poor kid."

"Probably not their truck then either," Duane mused with a frown, and then he looked sharply at the girl. "You took their truck? Why do I assume this involved my gun – you remember, the same gun you pulled on me and Clint before you and Betty-Ann took off?'

"Oh, about that," the girl blushed heavily, "sorry. Like I said, I panicked."

"Where is the gun now?" the man asked, and then added as he recognized the sheepish look on his girlfriend's face, "or is it in the damn river?"

"Try and look on the bright side," April-May said as she slowly moved closer to Duane and then slipped an arm around his waist.

"You lost my gun, April-May. We have a 'nonymous teenager unconscious in a motel room – a kid you got after hijacking a possibly already stolen truck – I'm not sure I can see any bright side, " the man admitted, trying hard to ignore the effect the pretty girl was having on him.

"Well 'side the fact we're probably heroes for saving this guy from those bozos," she looked deeply into his tanned face, her voice softened, "you got yourself a fiancé."

For a second Duane looked stunned and then her words sunk in. "You mean it?" he asked slowly, not trusting his own ears, but the broad smile on April-May's face was more than confirmation.

Momentarily forgetting about the three sleepers in the room, the cowboy swept the girl up and swung her around as he hollered at the top of his lungs.

When Clint and Betty-Ann both shot up out of the bed Duane just grinned, "We're getting married!" Immediately the room was set in jubilant motion as backs were patted, and hugs exchanged.

Oblivious to it all, an exhausted Joe Hardy only turned his head and settled back down into the warmth and comfort of the bed.

After a few minutes things had calmed down again and the two men looked at each other and then the kid.

"That still leaves us with one big problem, though, "Clint said softly, his arm around Betty-Ann.

"Yup," agreed Duane holding onto his fiancé tightly, "or rather, one slumbering problem."

"What do you want to do?" the black-haired man asked, looking at his friend. It really was Duane's call; after all it was Duane's gun that might be found in the truck shortly, if it had not been already.

"Let's get some sleep first," the cowboy said, glancing at the time, "a couple of hours anyway. Before sunup, we leave."

"What about him?" Betty-Ann asked, looking at the boy.

"We leave him," Duane told her. "Once we get on the road, I'll stop at the first payphone and leave a tip at the Sheila Flats Sheriff's department. Who knows, he might be someone they're already looking for."

"Good idea," Clint agreed, "the sheriff will know exactly what to do with him."

"All right then. It's settled. Girls, you can take the room next door. I'll give you a twenty-minute notice before we pull out, is that okay?" Duane asked, looking from one face to the other.

"That's just fine," April-May declared, nodding her head, "it don't take us long to get ready."

"Good," Duane said, satisfied with the plan, "we leave before first light. And if we're lucky...that kid won't remember a dang thing about us…."

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

In the room next door, Frank Hardy lay on one of the beds and stared up at the darkened ceiling. Next to him, in the other bed, he knew his father wasn't asleep either. But neither spoke. Both lost in their own thoughts.

Frank heard a celebratory shout from the guys next door and sighed. 'At least someone's happy tonight' he thought as he closed his eyes and sighed. 'Where are you, kiddo?' he wondered, swallowing back the painful lump that rose in his throat, 'you can't be dead, Joe. You can't be…' In the morning, he and his father would resume the search for his brother – or more accurately, for his brother's body. But for tonight, Frank still held out hope.