Carnal Innocence

several varieties and was consumed with relish. But with the connection between Darleen and Billy T. confirmed, Tucker was interested in only one story.
    Junior had found his wife wrapped around Billy T. Bonny on the kitchen table. Billy T. had ended up with a goose egg on the back of his head, and no charges were being filed on either side.
    Until something came along to nudge it aside, it would be Innocence’s hot news item.
    He took the afternoon to think it through, then had a piece of Della’s banana cream pie and thought some more. It was, after all, a matter of principle. A man could walk away from a lot of things, but he didn’t get far walking away from his principles.
    He bribed Della for the use of her car with the promise of a new pair of earrings and a full tank of gas. He drove past Caroline’s lane, wondering if he could talk her into a movie that night. Half a mile down, where Old Cypress Road crossed Longstreet, he parked.
    To get from town to his house, or from his house to town, Billy T. would have to drive by that spot. As far as Tucker knew, Billy T. hadn’t missed an evening at McGreedy’s since he could hold a pool cue.
    Tucker pulled out a cigarette and settled in to wait.
    He was sitting on the hood of Della’s car, thinking about lighting a second one, when he saw Caroline being pulled along by the puppy on a red leash.
    She nearly stopped her forward progress, and her fruitless attempts to teach the pup to heel, because she thought she caught a flash of annoyance in Tucker’s eyes.
    Then he was smiling. “Honey,” he called out, “where’s that dog taking you?”
    “We’re going for a walk.” She was panting a bit by the time she reached the car. Tail wriggling, Useless leapt up to nip at Tucker’s ankles.
    “This ain’t the city.” He leaned over enough to scratch the dog’s head as Useless hopped on his hind legs. “Around here you just turn ’em loose in the yard.”
    “I’m trying to teach him to mind the leash.”
    To show the futility of that, Useless swiveled around and gnawed at it.
    “He seems to mind it plenty.” He smiled. “You look tired, Caro. Rough night?”
    “Well, the puppy cried a lot.” And even when he’d settled, she’d had a hard time sleeping, thinking that Austin Hatinger might come rapping at her door.
    “Cardboard box and a windup alarm clock.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “He’s missing his mama. You put him in a box, maybe with that cushion you bought, and tuck an alarm clock in with him. It’s like a heartbeat. Lulls them off to sleep.”
    “Oh.” She thought it over and decided not to mention that he’d lulled off just fine when she’d cuddled him into bed with her. “I’ll have to give that a try. What are you doing standing on the side of the road?”
    “I’m sitting,” he corrected her. “Just passing the time.”
    “It’s an odd place to pass it. They haven’t caught Hatinger yet, have they?”
    “Not so I’ve heard.”
    “Tucker, Susie was by earlier and she mentioned Vernon Hatinger. She said he was as bad as his father.”
    Idly, Tucker snapped his fingers to entertain Useless. “More like he’s working up to it, I’d say.”
    “She said he was always looking to pick a fight, and—”
    “Picked a few with me,” Tucker interrupted, reminiscing. “Kicked my ass, I’m sorry to say. Then Dwayne kicked his.” He grinned, remembering how Dwayne had been before the bottle had taken such a choke hold. “I never could seem to put on muscle as a boy. Even working in the field, I ended up with toothpick arms. But Dwayne, he hulked right up. Used those arms to quarterback on the football team and set all the girls to swooning after him. After Vernon tried to pound some righteousness into my face, Dwayne pounded some sin into his.” He let out a long, satisfied breath. “Sin sure as hell won that day.”
    “I’m sure that’s a touching story of male bonding,but my point is, you don’t have just Austin to worry about, but Vernon as well.”
    “There isn’t much point worrying about either one of them.”
    “Why?” she burst out. “Because your big brother will beat them up for you?”
    “These days he’s too busy beating up himself.” He cast a look down Old Cypress Road and saw the telltale plume of gravel dust and the gleam of Billy T.’s souped-up Thunderbird. “It might be best if you walked on back, put this out of your mind. Maybe I’ll stop in later and see how that painting’s