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Old man Leroy was always at the store. It wasn’t open if he wasn’t there.
“I’ll have to stop by for a cup of coffee,” I commented and she smiled tightly.
“You do that. Tell him I sent you by,” Janet ordered and I raised the bag of peas in acknowledgement. “Keep those on your eye or you won’t be able to see by tonight,” she ordered and I hastily pressed them back against my quickly swelling eye. She glanced over her shoulder at Uncle Cal’s door. “You do what you need to do, Noah Breaux. You hear me?”
I nodded, hearing her loud and clear.
“We need you. Now, scoot.”
I hustled from the building, throwing the melting peas away with an apologetic glance back at the door. I needed to prove Rob had been in town when Ronnie was killed, otherwise my uncle’s witch hunt against the Hayes might succeed.
***
The bell rattled against the door, announcing my arrival, and old Leroy squinted at me suspiciously. I raised my hands. “Janet sent me.”
“Old man Leroy never did take a liking to cops, not after your uncle shot and killed his son when he was just a teenager,” a familiar voice drawled from my left and I nodded toward Johnny, not taking my eyes away from Leroy.
“I’m not my uncle,” I replied, hearing the weariness in my own voice. It felt like I’d uttered those words a thousand times and I’d have to say them a thousand more before anyone would believe me.
“Coffee’s hot,” Leroy said abruptly and Johnny’s eyebrow curved in surprise, even as he tilted his head for me to go ahead. “Fresh pot is in the back.” I followed the old man, his shoulders stooped with age but wiry muscles still lined his back.
We stopped next to an ancient coffee pot, the glass so dirty you couldn’t tell if there was one cup or six in it. Leroy poured a cup and handed it to me, no mention of sugar or creamer, and I raised the cup in appreciation before taking a sip. Prepared for a bitter brew, I was pleasantly surprised by the mellow flavor and Leroy let out a cackle, revealing several missing teeth.
“Thought it was gonna be nasty, didn’t you?”
I didn’t bother to deny it, shaking my head with a laugh. “It’s good,” I acknowledged and he nodded.
“I get it from a small farm in Cos-ta Ri-ca,” he said proudly, carefully enunciating Costa Rica. “My Molly taught me how to make a proper pot before she died.”
Johnny watched me as I smiled and told Leroy, “She taught you well. This is probably the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”
He poured another cup and handed it to Johnny before finally getting a worn mug down from the shelf and filling it. The lettering was almost gone, but I could still make out the words, “World’s Best Husband.” I looked down at my cup, swallowing hard. Everyone knew his wife had lost her battle with cancer a few years earlier and Leroy had gotten crankier with each subsequent year, but seeing the way he held that mug, as if it was the most precious thing he owned, I could start to understand why.
“Why do you think I ride out here every morning?” Johnny mentioned, raising his cup. “It ain’t for the company.”
“No,” Leroy retorted, pointing at him. “It’s for the gossip.”
“I hear you need to go by Ronnie’s salon for the good gossip,” I said thoughtlessly, reminded of Cadence’s seemingly limitless knowledge of my life. They looked at me in surprise and I thought I might even have impressed them a little.
“Huh, you might not just be a pretty face,” Leroy commented and I frowned. He let out another of his sharp cackles that passed for a laugh. “I heard about Mr. March.”
“What the hell?” I said to no one, shaking my head in disbelief. “How am I the only one who didn’t know?”
Johnny shook his head. “I don’t know and I don’t want to know,” he replied, waving his cup of coffee between us. “You can leave me out of whatever the hell that is.”
I nodded eagerly, happy to not explain.
“What I want to know...was Rob here?” Johnny went straight in for the punch, wiping the smile from Leroy’s face. “And if so, did he fuck up and leave a clue that’ll help us find the damn bastard?”
“I heard your boy rode out of town this morning,” Leroy mentioned, his gaze locked on Johnny’s face. “Dis-obeyed a di-rect order,” he continued with a deliberate drawl as Johnny’s expression turned stone faced.
“That would be club business,” he retorted, keeping his voice low. “Last time I checked you stopped paying dues years ago.”
“Once a Rebel, always a Rebel,” Leroy replied, watching Johnny closely, as I tried to figure out the undercurrents swirling around the room. “I know you, Johnny, and when it comes to one of Cash’s boys,” he paused and I waited, curious to know what he thought Johnny would do, “There’s no low you won’t go.”
