Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 04 - Vicksburg by Kent Conwell Read Free Book Online

it, and WD-Forty.” From the dome light, I saw the puzzlement
scribbled across his face. “WD-Forty for the things that are
supposed to move, but don’t, and duct tape for the things
that are not supposed to move, but do. Cajun’s toolbox.”

    Fifteen minutes later, I had a patch on the window and the
glass brushed from the truck. “Well, not as good as new, but
it’ll work until I get another one in tomorrow.”
    “Okay. If you’re finished, let’s go up to the house. WR is
calling in some pizza.”
    I declined. “I’ve got some thinking to do. I’ll find me a
steakhouse around somewhere, then get me a motel.” I
glanced at the house and shook my head.
    “I’ll go with you”
    “No. I told you, I’ve got some thinking to do”
    “About my old man?”
    “About a lot of things, Jack. For example, did you know
your father had riverside property down below Vicksburg?”
    His forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Yeah. Some
swampland not worth a plugged nickel from what WR said.”
    I decided against telling him the truth at that moment. The
less he knew, the better off I was with the investigation.
There was no question in my cynical mind that the other
three siblings already knew the property was far from
worthless.
    Jack waved from the front porch as I drove away.
    I glanced in the rearview as I drove away, and with a
mixed sense of relief and guilt, spotted his rotund silhouette
standing forlornly under the hazy glare of the porch light. I
don’t know why, I just did. Maybe it was because I hated to
leave him behind with those three vultures. For all Jack’s
misadventures, he was basically a harmless guy.
    My tires hissed on the wet streets as I headed back toward
Washington. I’d noticed a motel, the Riverside Inn, on the
levee.

    It was reasonably priced and clean with cable and the
other amenities. My eyes were drooping, and my stomach
was growling. I eyed the bed hungrily, but my rumbling
stomach won out. Across the street was Casper’s Steak and
Shrimp House. I dashed across the busy street to the restaurant and slipped into a booth near a window so I could watch
the passing cars in the rain.
    “Yes, sir,” a bubbly voice said as a hand slipped the menu
in front of me.
    I glanced up and froze.
    Staring down at me with an equally surprised look on her
face was my ex-wife, Diane Mays.
    For several seconds, we just stared at each other before I
jumped to my feet. “Diane” We were both too flustered to
speak. Instinctively, we just hugged each other before awkwardly pushing away. “Well, how are you?” I managed to
stammer out.
    Nearby patrons stared at us curiously.
    Blushing, she glanced at them, at the same time pushing
her hair back from her forehead. “Fine. I’m fine. I, ah..”
    Suddenly, we both broke into laughter. I looked around at
the onlookers and threw out my arms. “Sorry, folks. We, ah,
well, we were once married, but we haven’t seen each other
in years.”
    From a nearby table, a man quipped, “That must be the
secret of staying friends.” He laughed, and his wife glared
daggers at him. Looked like someone was in for a chilly
night.
    Finally, we managed to get my order in and arranged to
meet next door in the bar after the restaurant closed at
midnight.
    I couldn’t help watching her throughout the meal, and she
must have felt the same, for she kept glancing at me with a
big smile. I remembered that smile the first time I saw it
back in high school. She was attractive then, and attractive
now. Her shiny brown hair and flashing black eyes brought back the days when those features played flip-flop with my
heart.

    After paying the bill and leaving her a generous tip, I
reminded her of our date.
    “I won’t forget,” she replied with a coquettish smile on
her lips.
    Back in my room, I flipped on the TV and plopped down
on the bed, wide awake. I opened the visitors’ brochure on
the Vicksburg Battlefield and skimmed over