The Ranger - Ace Atkins [68]
“Yes, ma’am.”
Quinn nodded. Out through the painted window advertising THE MONITOR, he saw two boarded-up storefronts side by side, the old sporting goods store, now a check-cashing business advertising EARLY PAYDAY LOANS.
“Quinn, you do realize there are three kinds of sex?”
“No, ma’am.”
“A man your age needs to understand that. First there is house sex.”
“Sure.”
“See, when you first take a wife, you have sex all over the house.”
“I bet.”
“And then comes the bedroom sex. You and your wife only have sex with the lights off and under the covers.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And then comes hall sex.”
He nodded, waiting.
“That’s when you pass each other in the hall and say, ‘Fuck you.’ ”
Quinn smiled. Betty Jo leaned back into her desk chair, surrounded by all kinds of Mississippi newspaper awards, framed columns, pictures of kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. There was an entire collection of ceramic figurines of children praying, lots of dead plants and coffee mugs, two proclaiming her THE WORLD’S GREATEST.
She grabbed both of them and walked behind her desk, pouring coffee. “Your mother has a new man.”
“I know.”
“You want to know about him?”
“Not really.”
“He’s okay, Quinn. Really. He’s been married twice, isn’t too bright, but what the hell.”
“I’m sure he’s a good man.”
Betty Jo sat back down and passed a coffee mug to Quinn, lighting a cigarette with a small gold lighter. “I heard you’ve been spotted around on leave with Lillie Virgil.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I like her.”
Quinn was quiet. Betty Jo smoked and winked at him.
“You hear about the Italian couple on honeymoon?”
“Is this the one where the bride’s name is Virginia?”
“Shit,” Betty Jo said.
Quinn smiled and leaned forward in his seat, noticing the old paneled walls and hard fluorescent light, lots of dust and old knickknacks, stacks and stacks of newspapers. The room smelled of coffee and nicotine. “I want to know about Johnny Stagg.”
“Good Lord, Quinn. I just ate lunch.”
“You know anything about him doing business with a man named Gowrie?”
“I know who you’re talking about. That trash got himself arrested this morning for pulling a gun on Dr. Stevens.”
Quinn nodded.
“You know much about Gowrie?”
“He showed up a couple years ago. Inherited some land or bought some land, I’m not really sure. But he’s not from here, and if it was inherited, it was from some kind of distant relation.”
“You know about the drugs?”
“Of course. Everyone in town knows that.”
“You write about it?”
“He hasn’t been arrested until this morning. I can’t print rumors.”
“And now he’s out.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Luke wouldn’t press charges.”
“Why’s that?”
“I hope to find out.”
“That doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.”
“Are they friends?”
“Stagg’s on the hospital board.”
“Why would anyone allow that?”
“He’s promised to build something bigger and a lot better.” Betty Jo looked at Quinn like he was a little slow. “He already got a certificate to build from the state. You can’t have a new hospital without that. Quinn, you never heard of the Tibbehah Miracle?”
“Lillie told me some.”
“He put together an industrial-complex deal that supposedly would’ve saved this county. Part of the deal was a school and a regional hospital.”
“What happened?”
“They cleared the McKibben land, put up the signs, and nothing is coming up but weeds.”
“Bankrupt?”
“Johnny says everything is still going to plan. Just spoke in front of the county supervisors last week.”
“Who’s backing him?”
“You figure that out and let me know.”
Charley Booth came to Lena at the hospital with a bouquet of daisies and dressed in a fresh white T-shirt and black jeans. His hair had been slicked back, and he walked up to her, Lena holding the baby, and gave that same semisweet smile he’d given her when they’d first met. “May I hold him?”
“Her.”
“May I hold the baby?”
And Lena didn’t see no harm in it. After all, the baby—she had not decided on a name yet—was half Charley Booth’s. He’d gone to full-time Charley Booth now, and that was good since there would be paperwork and things to