Edith slowly shook her head, her face burning with heat.
Trunk shrugged.
“Well, that’s a shame. My condolences.” He stonily stared at Edith and then reached out and patted her shoulder. “May Olivia rest in peace.”
Edith nodded, swallowing loudly.
“Okay! Let’s see what else is on the list you might could help us with then.”
He nonchalantly swiped up the paper, and bent his knees to squat down a foot, coming eye to eye with Edith.
She held her breath as he held his pose and stared at her for what seemed like eternity.
“I’ll take those!” He plucked her glasses off her nose, causing Edith to jerk away in fright. He lifted the glasses over her head with the chain still intact, and put them over his own head. Laughing, he walked into the den and plopped down into Elmer’s recliner, kicking his feet back.
He leaned back to look at Edith, still standing as still as a statue in the kitchen. “Bring me some coffee, honey,” he said, and winked.
Edith shook off a shiver, and sidestepped the other biker. “Excuse me.” She pulled a cup down from the cupboard and shakily poured the coffee, sloshing it onto the counter.
The other biker, Backfire, took up where Trunk had left off, shoving chicken into his mouth. “Pour me a cup, too,” he mumbled through a mouthful, not even looking at Edith.
These were men used to getting what they wanted… when they wanted it.
Edith carried the coffee to Trunk and after a moment of hesitation, during which time she considered throwing it in his face and running, she finally handed it to him. Backfire sauntered into the living room, carrying the whole plate of the remaining chicken.
“Can I sit for a bit, too, Boss?” he asked.
Trunk generously waved a hand at the old plaid couch and Edith grimaced as the nasty man sat down, sloshing the black liquid on her favorite green and yellow afghan; one that had taken her nearly a year to crochet.
“Sit, Grandma.” Trunk demanded.
Edith squeezed past his legs and perched on the other end of the sofa, farthest away from the strangers. She stared at the quiet television, seeing her life with Elmer flash by on the empty gray screen. She should’ve listened to him when he told her to carry the pistol in her apron. He’d told her a dozen times it wouldn’t do a darn bit of good under her pillow.
“Where’s your husband, Grandma?”
Edith realized they had no way of knowing if Elmer was even here. They hadn’t looked… why were they so confident he wasn’t about to come out shooting from another room in the house? And how did they even know she had a husband?
“Grrrrraaaaaandma… I’m talking to you…”
“How did you know I was married?”
“You said I was eating your husband’s food, remember?”
She’d forgotten.
“And Rose. Sweet, sweet Rose. She told me all about you and Elmer. Said you two were BFF’s. I think that’s super cool for you old gals,” he said, and smiled. “She was more than willing to tell me anything I needed to know.”
Edith’s blood turned to ice.
Why would Rose tell these men anything? Did they hurt her? And did she also tell them Elmer had left, taking the girls with him? It was possible she saw them drive by.
But no… she reassured herself. Think, Edith! He was asking where Elmer was. So he doesn’t know Elmer left with the girls.
“He’s gone to town. Looking for supplies,” she lied again.
“Coming home soon then?”
“I hope so.”
Trunk jerked his head toward the bedrooms, and spoke to Backfire. “You. Go check out the bedrooms. You know what’s on the list. See if you find anything. Old people have a lot of weird shit. Look in the closets,” he said to the other man.
The man stood up, sliding the plate onto the end table, and Edith made as though to stand, too. Trunk waved her back down again.
“I don’t want him in our bedroom!” she said with indignation.
“Settle down… he won’t hurt anything. Will ya, Backfire?”
Backfire looked back with a smug grin, just before his elbow knocked over a glass lantern, spilling precious fuel onto the floor. The glass shattered. “Nope. I’ll be careful, boss.”
Tears filled Edith’s eyes. That lantern had belonged to her parents, long dead. The flowers painted on the front were by her own mother’s hand.
Slowly, she sat back down, barely perched on the edge of the sofa. Her mind raced. What if he found the gun? If he didn’t, maybe she could devise a plan on how to get it? Could she shoot a man in cold blood? Could she shoot them both before they shot her? They each had a gun. The man outside probably had one, too.
Edith was a pretty good shot; Elmer had told her so many times. But she wasn’t sure if she was that good under pressure. And shooting at a person was a lot different from shooting at a target in the yard.
Trunk broke her train of thought. “So, Edith… I’m really glad you didn’t lie to me. I hate a liar. The way I see it, the truth will always set you free! Hallelujah! Can I get an amen?”
“Amen,” Edith answered, in barely a whisper.
He waved his hand in the air. “Yeah. No use heading to York County, South Cackalacky, for nothing, right? You saved me a wasted trip. For all I know, that truck is long gone… sold on Craigslist to some other schmuck. It was the girls I was after. Shame that set got broke up. What exactly happened to the poor girl?”
He leaned forward and put his elbow on his knee, and his chin in his hand, examining Edith closely.
She shivered in fear under his stare.
He suspects I’m lying.
In for a penny… in for a pound.
Edith reached for a tissue, not really needing it. She began to tear it into little pieces, dropping them into her lap. “It was an accident, of course. Mei did it. She was trying to shoot Elmer’s shotgun one-handed. One hand was all she had, after all.”
Trunk laughed and Edith shot him a deadly glare.
He choked down his laughter. “Sorry. I thought you were making a joke.”
Edith frantically shook her head. Her legs were beginning to shake. “No. So Mei shot Olivia, and she felt just awful. She decided not to go with Gabby and Emma, their little sister. She went her own way.”
Trunk frowned. “All by herself? She hit the road, on foot, all alone? That doesn’t sound like Mei. She was willing to do just about anything back at that rest area to not be alone out on the road,” he said and winked again.
He’s playing with me. He knows I’m lying.
Edith dabbed at her eyes—which truly were watering now, thinking of what really happened. “I’d prefer not to talk about it, if it’s all the same to you.”
Trunk nodded. “I see.”
He turned to the hall and yelled, “Backfire, what’re you finding back there?”
Backfire walked out, a small fancy bag dangling from his fingertips. “Look here, Boss.”
Trunk held his hand out and Backfire brought it to him. He pursed his lips and turned it over and over, examining it. “This looks familiar.” He looked at Edith. “Care to tell me why Mei would run off without her purse, Edith? ‘Cuz lemme tell you… I could barely keep that girl’s one paw out of this bag, even when I had her on the ground bumping uglies.”
Edith began to shake again. “It’s not Mei’s.” She bit her lip and looked at the floor.
Trunk opened the purse and first pulled out a brown bottle with a few pills in it, holding them up to Edith, who slowly raised her head to look. “Naw… you’re right. This can’t be Mei’s purse. A junkie never ever leaves her stash…” he said.