Carnal Innocence

provided. “Boy, looks like you ran into a mean woman or a jealous husband.”
    Tucker managed a grin. There were few secrets in town, and a smart man chose his wisely. “Nope. A pissed-off papa.”
    Charlie O’Hara gave a wheezy chuckle. His emphysema wasn’t getting any better, and he figured he’d die of it before another summer came, so he appreciated all of life’s little jokes. “That Austin Hatinger?” When Tucker jerked his head to the side in acknowledgment, O’Hara wheezed again. “Bad apple. Once saw him whale into Toby March—’course Toby was a black boy, so nobody paid much mind. Must’ve been in sixty-nine. Stove in Toby’s ribs and scarred his face.”
    “Sixty-eight,” Bonny corrected his crony, because accuracy was important in such matters. “That was the summer we got the new tractor, so I remember. Austin said Toby’d stole a length of rope outta his shed. But that was nonsense. Toby was a good boy and never took nothing wasn’t his. He come to work out on the farm with me after his ribs healed. Never had a bit of trouble outta him.”
    “Austin’s a mean one.” Koons spat again, eitherfrom need or to emphasize his point. “Went to Korea mean and came back meaner. Never did forgive your mama for marrying up when he was over there fighting slant eyes. Had his mind set on Miss Madeline, though Christ knows she never looked at him twice when he was smack in front of her.” He grinned toothlessly. “You taking him on as a daddy-in-law, Tuck?”
    “Not in this life. Y’all don’t work too hard now.”
    They chuckled and wheezed appreciatively as he made the turn and pushed open Burke’s door.
    The sheriff’s office was a steamy box of a room holding a metal army surplus desk, two swivel chairs, a scarred wooden rocker, a gun cabinet for which Burke held the keys on the heavy chain at his belt, and a shiny new Mr. Coffee, a gift from Burke’s wife at Christmas. The wood floor was scattered with hard little dots of white paint from the last time the walls had been done.
    Beyond the office was a closet-sized john and through the john a narrow storage room with metal shelves and just enough room for a fold-up cot. This was used if Burke or his deputy needed to watch a prisoner overnight. More often it was used if either man found himself in the domestic doghouse and needed to give his spouse a night to cool off.
    Tucker had always wondered how Burke, the son of a once-prosperous planter, could be happy here, making his living processing traffic tickets, breaking up the occasional brawl, and watching out for drunks.
    But Burke seemed content enough, just as he seemed content to be married for nearly seventeen years to the girl he’d gotten pregnant while they were both still in high school. He wore his badge easily and was affable enough to remain popular in Innocence, where people didn’t like to be told what they couldn’t do.
    Tucker found him huddled over his desk, frowning over files while the ceiling fan stirred stale smoke and hot air overhead.
    “Burke.”
    “Hey, Tuck. What’re you …” He trailed off as he tookin Tucker’s swollen face. “Holy hell, boy, what did you run into?”
    Tucker grimaced, the movement costing him no little discomfort. “Austin’s fists.”
    Burke grinned. “How’d he look?”
    “Della says worse. I was too busy holding my insides where they belonged to notice.”
    “She probably didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
    Knowing the truth of that, Tuck eased himself down on the frayed seat of the swivel chair. “Probably. Still, I don’t think all the blood on my shirt was mine. Hope not.”
    “Edda Lou?”
    “Yeah.” Tucker poked gentle fingers under his sunglasses to probe his bruised eye socket. “Way he sees it, I debauched a lily-white virgin who’d never seen a dick before.”
    “Shit.”
    “There you go.” Tucker caught himself before he made the mistake of shrugging. “Thing is, she’s twenty-five, and I slept with her, not her old man.”
    “Happy to hear that.”
    Tucker’s quick grin pulled at his puffy lip. “Edda Lou’s ma must close her eyes and pray to Jesus every time he takes a poke at her.” Then he sobered, the image of Austin pounding it to his frail-boned, miserable-eyed wife too disturbing to dwell on. “Thing is, Burke, I want to do what’s right.” He blew out a breath, realizing there was more than one reason he’d come into town. This was the opening for the first one. “Things