Carnal Innocence

worked out for you and Susie.”
    “Yeah.” Burke drew out a pack of Chesterfields, took one, then tossed the pack across the desk for Tucker. “We were too young and stupid to think they wouldn’t.” He watched as Tucker broke off a fraction of the tip. “And I loved her. Flat out loved her then. Still do.” He flipped his matches to Tucker. “It hasn’t been easy, with Marvella coming along before graduation, our having to live with my folks for two years before we could afford our own place. Then Susie pregnant againwith Tommy.” Blowing out smoke, he shook his head. “Three babies in five years.”
    “You could have kept your fly zipped.”
    Burke grinned. “So could you.”
    “Yeah.” Tucker blew smoke between his teeth. “Well, it comes to this. I don’t love Edda Lou, flat out or any other way, but I’ve got a responsibility. I can’t marry her, Burke. Can’t do it.”
    Burke tapped his ash into a metal ashtray that had once been blue and was now the color of smut. “I gotta say you’d be a fool if you did.” He cleared his throat before venturing onto boggy ground. “Susie tells me that Edda’s been bragging for weeks about how she’s going to be living up in the big house with servants. Susie said she never paid it much mind, but some of the others did. Sounds to me like that girl was set on life at Sweetwater.”
    It was both a blow to his pride and a great relief. So it had never been him, Tucker realized. It had been the Longstreet name. But she must have figured that would get back to him sooner or later.
    “I came in to tell you I haven’t been able to get hold of her since that day in the diner. Austin came down on me, figuring I was hiding her there at the house. She been around town?”
    Slowly, Burke crushed out his cigarette. “I can’t say as I’ve seen her myself for a day or two.”
    “Probably with a girlfriend.” The idea settled him. “Thing is, Burke, ever since we found Francie …”
    “Yeah.” Burke felt a twang inside his gut.
    “You got anything on that—or Arnette?”
    “Nothing.” The failure had heat rising up his neck. “County sheriff’s mostly in charge. I’ve been working with the medical examiner, and the state boys have helped, but there’s nothing solid. Some woman was sliced up in Nashville last month. If they can find a connection, we’ll call in the FBI.”
    “No shit?”
    Burke merely nodded. He didn’t like the idea of federal officers in his town, taking over his job, lookingat him out of the corner of their city eyes and thinking he was a rube who couldn’t lock up a passed-out drunk.
    “It was remembering Francie that had me worrying,” Tucker continued.
    “I’ll ask around.” He rose, wanting to do so quickly. “Like you said, she’s probably staying with a girlfriend for a few days, thinking that’ll sweat you into a proposal.”
    “Yeah.” Relieved that he’d passed his burden onto Burke, Tucker stood and limped to the door. “You’ll let me know.”
    “First thing.” Burke walked out with him, took a long slow look at his town. Where he’d been born and raised, where his children raced the streets and his wife shopped. Where he could raise a finger in salute to anyone and be recognized and acknowledged.
    “Look at that.” Tucker let out a little sigh as he watched Caroline Waverly climb out of her BMW and stroll toward Larrson’s. “That’s one long, cool drink of water. Makes a man thirsty just to look.”
    “Edith McNair’s kin?”
    “Yep. Ran into her the other day. Talks like a duchess and has the biggest green eyes you’ve ever seen.”
    Recognizing the signs, Burke chuckled. “You’ve got problems enough, son.”
    “It’s a weakness.” Tucker limped a little as he walked to his car. Changing his mind, he headed across the street. “I think I’ll go buy a pack of smokes.”
    Burke’s grin faded as he turned toward the rooming house. He remembered Francie, too. Surely Edda Lou would have stayed close by to pressure Tucker into marriage. The fact that she hadn’t left a sick taste in the back of his throat.
    She was settling in just fine, Caroline told herself as she walked across the heat-baked lawn toward the trees. The ladies she’d met in Larsson’s that afternoon had been more curious than she was used to, but they’d alsobeen friendly and warm. It was nice to know if she got lonely, she could drive into town for company.
    She’d particularly liked Susie Truesdale, who’d