Tire Tracks

So far, Miranda has been raising her ex-lover, Dougie's, son. When Dougie went missing, she filed for temporary custody. But, Dougie has since returned, and she is afraid that he is back for his son.

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Mrs. Fine is sitting at her usual post when I pull into the Garden of Eden Mobile Home Park. She sits, legs crossed and one of her cheap cigarettes perched between her bony fingers. I feel her beady eyes on me before I even get out of the car.

"I heard your ship finally came in," she calls out in her scratchy voice. I watch as she puts the cigarette to her thin wrinkled lips and draws in a deep breath. She holds the smoke for an eternity before it billows out like smoke from a dragon's nostrils.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to," I say, busying myself with the contents in my purse.

"Oh, come now, Miranda. You're front page news." She holds up the afternoon edition of the Patterson Gazette. "Not a very flattering picture of you," she mutters just loud enough for me to hear her.

I hurry over to her trailer, and without asking, snatch the edition out of her bony hands. Damned if she isn't telling the truth. There is a grainy photograph of me, looking like I've been dragged behind the Good Humor truck for about thirty miles. Even though the details are blurry, my shirt and vest are stained and there is a dark spot on my jeans that makes it look like I wet myself. If I had the cash on me, I'd find every paper machine in the county and buy all of the copies. Not only does it alert everyone that I came into some money, but I look like road kill, to boot.

I grab the pack of cigs that she has stashed on the railing and tap one out, and before I can rethink my actions, Mrs. Fine is ready with the lighter. "Shit. I can't believe Colleen didn't let me know when she was publishing this."

"Who the hell is Colleen?" she asks.

"The reporter who wrote this. Colleen Weaver."

"It's not a bad story, but I'd kick her ass for that picture. But then, that's just me."

I draw in a lungful of the disgusting smoke and try not to get upset. I might be safe from Dougie reading about it. I don't think he even takes time to read the menu at Burger King. But, Elaine and her husband get the paper, or at least, they used to. My mom gets the paper whenever the paper delivery guy doesn't toss it on her roof. Shit, Matt carries it at the Little Eagle.

One more drag and I drop the half smoked devil-stick down and smear it into the gravel with the toe of my shoe. "Thanks for the smoke and do me a favor. When you're done with that copy," i start but she cuts me off.

"You want me to save it for your?"

I frown at her suggestion. "No, I want you to burn it."

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Waylon is doing his homework and I'm paying a couple of bills when Mitch comes by.

"If you're here to harass me about that God awful picture in the paper," I tease as he stands there on the porch. My smile fades as he looks past me to where Waylon sits. "What's wrong?"

He nods for me to come outside and waits until I close the door before he speaks. "Miranda, when was the last time you saw Dougie?"

I shrug. "I guess its been about a week. Why? Has he disappeared again?"

"Not exactly. I believe he's been involved in an altercation."

"Mitch, I don't have time for you to speak in police gibberish. What the hell has happened?"

"Two men were found on the side of the road. Dougie's truck was pulled over out past Haynes Pond. The other vehicle was forced off the road. It looks like road rage. It looks like Dougie took a hammer to the occupant of the second vehicle. Some woman was driving past and said she saw a tall dark haired man acting like he was going to bust out the windshield of another car. When we got there, Dougie was out cold, but the hammer was still in his hand and the other man was dead."

My mind spins. Dougie isn't a killer, much less, someone prone to road rage. He didn't put that much effort into anything. "That can't be real, Mitch."

"It's very real. Do you want me to tell Waylon, or do you want to?"

I shudder. This is going to kill him. He just got his daddy back and now, something like this? I can't answer. "Has Dougie said anything?"

"He was still out. They were taking him to the hospital. He wasn't conscious when I came over here."

"I don't believe he would kill someone. Not unless he was being threatened in some way. Even then," I mutter.

"He knew this guy, Miranda. It was the teacher. It was Waylon's teacher."

I don't dare look up at Mitch. I've not told him that Dougie knew Tomlin back in high school. I've kept their previous relationship a secret. I didn't tell Mitch that Dougie was the one who instigated Tomlin's car being vandalized. But, cold blooded murder? It doesn't sit.

"If you want a ride to the hospital from me, let's go tell Waylon."

I nod silently and put my hand on the door knob. I thought my day was bad because of a crappy photograph in the paper. Little did I know that was the highlight of the day.