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heels. The dog barked as loudly as the boys bellowed, I got it! I got
it! while shoving at each other.
You got company? Sonny asked as the brothers dove for the
football like two rough and tumble professionals.
Boy! Boys! Mary Ann hollered from the truck. Calm down!
Uh, yeah. Mary Ann Osborne and her boys just came over. She
left her purse in my truck. We, uh, had a date, he explained.
She slammed the truck s door, looped her purse strap over her
shoulder, and hustled toward her sons, who now rolled around on
the ground like two mud wrestlers. His tail wagging his whole body,
Sam playfully nipped at them between yelps and pants.
Well, well, well, Sonny drawled. I guess you took my advice
and finally asked her out. Didn t take you long, either, lover boy.
Would you just stop it? Jack protested and kept his focus on
the fighting boys.
Hey, I think it s great! Sonny said. You ve been wrapped around
Charli Friedmont s finger long enough, and she knows she s got you
right where she wants you. This ll do her good.
What do you mean? Jack leaned against the porch post and
tried to appear as casual as possible. He did not want Mary Ann to
know his brother had brought up Charli.
I was with both of you yesterday. I saw how you both acted.
You re nothing but a whipped pup ready to fetch every time she lifts
a finger, and she knows it too. I think she still thinks you ve got it,
TEXAS HEAT « 121
but I don t think she s ever going to give the nod unless you stop
groveling at her feet.
I m not groveling! Jack barked and straightened.
Mary Ann, now nearing her sons, glanced toward Jack. He turned
toward the house and doubled his fist.
Maybe it s time for you to stop asking how high every time she
says jump , Sonny advised. Next time she calls you to rescue her,
call the station and send one of your men. You re too easy.
Easy? Jack whispered and tried to wrap his mind around Son
ny s logic.
All I know is, some chicks have to know you just might not be
there forever before they ll take the bait. Now that you and Mary Ann
are an item, I don t see how it s going to hurt to let Charli know.
Jack glanced over his shoulder. Mary Ann held each boy by the
arm and was hunched over them. Both covered in dirt and grass,
they were more interested in kicking at each other than listening
to their mother. Sam, now in possession of the football, romped in
circles around them and whined for more action.
We aren t an item, he claimed and wondered if anyone else in
Mary Ann s life was thinking her sons needed a strong male figure to
snap them into shape. I ve just taken her out one time. She forgot
her purse. She s here to get it.
You don t have to explain, Sonny drawled. I m a big boy. You d
rather spend the evening with her than me. Hey, I can handle that. If
you want me to, I ll call Charli and let her know who you re with.
That s taking it a little far. Don t you think? Jack groused.
Sometimes, you do what you gotta do, Sonny shot back.
Well, you don t gotta do that.
Okay, okay. I m just tryin to help, Sonny said, a smile in his
voice.
You mean, help me over a cliff ?
122 » Debra White Smith
Let s not jump to conclusions, Sonny teased.
Maybe I m speaking from experience. Jack rubbed his nose and
remembered that drop into the gulley that broke it. Even twenty-five
years later, Jack couldn t forget the pain . . . or the memory of Sonny
and Ryan peering over the edge.
Now he s dragging up the past, Sonny complained. I m outa
here before you start a sermon and take up the offering.
I only preach where it s needed, Jack claimed.
Touché and goodbye! Sonny shot before the line went dead.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sigmund pulled the Cutlass onto Charli s road and steered the ve
hicle down the winding lane. His headlights sliced through the night,
highlighting a cloud of bugs that splattered the windshield.
He groaned and knew he d have to run the vehicle through the
car wash. His mother would throw a fit if she got into the car next
Saturday and spotted bugs all over her precious baby. But even
dealing with a mean-spirited old lady was worth a couple thousand
a month.
Fortunately, Sigmund had possessed the foresight to save the al
lowance for years. That, plus the money he d embezzled insured that
he and Margarita would survive for many moons, even if he did
ditch his job.
He glanced toward the passenger seat at the ziplock bag that held
the chemical injection he needed to end Charli s life. His mother s
insulin syringe held a liquid potion he d created himself. Years ago
during his deer hunting days, Sigmund and his father had laced
their arrows with a white powder called succinylcholine. The muscle
relaxant did dreadful things to deer. Once the arrow entered their
body, they dropped within thirty seconds and stopped breathing.
124 » Debra White Smith
Of course, it didn t kill them right away. They d twitch a bit and
then go limp while their heart raced and their brain eventually shut
down from lack of oxygen. All the while, their glassy eyes stared at
the world they were leaving, and the deer held no power to fight the
oncoming death. Sigmund never told his father, but that was the part
of hunting he liked best watching his victim suffocate. It reminded
him of the time his mother shoved a pillow over his head and held
him down until he nearly passed out.
Sometimes when he hovered between the dreamworld and real
ity, Sigmund even recalled what his mind had blocked out during
the murder Brenda Downey s eyes filling with the panic of suffoca
tion. The rush of adrenaline usually awakened him. A few times, he
lay in the twilight and daydreamed of repeating the deed. Now his
daydream was becoming a reality.
Tonight, he d revisit the thrill as soon as he injected Charli Fried
mont with the white powder he d mixed with water. A syringe full
would be more than sufficient. For a few minutes, her heart would
race even though she couldn t breath, and Sigmund s heart would
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