Chapter One
Author’s Note: This is my homage to the very lovely and extraordinarily talented Zoey who makes my website: http://paulaspassions.com possible. Many thanks to Tina for betaing this. This is dedicated to two of the best friends I’ve never met.
Tina lay in the bed, staring up into the darkness. Her heart was pounding hard as she listened for the footsteps of that bastard Cletus. She hoped that he would leave Zoey alone. If she would just pretend to sleep like they’d planned, the orderly would look in, sneer and walk to the next room.
How long? She turned her head a bit to stare at the bright red light of the LCD readout. She hated the cold impersonal clock, hated everything in this room. Nothing here was hers. She wanted to go home. She knew what she had to do. "Oh Billy, lord, I need you now." She closed her eyes for a moment and the image of her sweet, sweet Billy appeared.
"Now Tina, sweetie, we talked about this. Ya’ll know what you gotta do. You’re my best girl. You gotta make it right for all of us."
"I’m so scared, Billy. What if Zoey gets afraid? She doesn’t hear Jimmy like I hear you. She thinks I’m crazy."
At his familiar crackling laugh, she opened her eyes in terror. Would Cletus hear that? "Now, calm down, Tina Girl. You know it’s you, Tina, and me. Jimmy was a good brother and an okay husband I guess, but he’s happy where he is."
Tina snorted softly. "He was always happy wherever he was. A little too happy, if you ask me. I guess they got booze and women up there. Don’t know how Jimmy made it to heaven."
"Now Tina, baby. Don’t be like that. You know that Jimmy was always weak. It was up to the three of us to keep him on the straight and narrow."
"Well we didn’t do so good at that."
"Don’t matter none now, darlin’. You just remember what you gotta do. You remember where I told you to get the papers?"
"Yes, yes. Oh. Here comes Cletus. I have to be quiet now.
"Well I don’t. Damn fool cain’t hear nothin’ but his own voice. Coonass."
"Billy, please." She gripped the sheet over her chest and tried hard to keep her breathing long and soft. The door opened and she felt the hated glare of the nursing home’s worst orderly rake over her thin body. She prayed hard and she was rewarded. The splash of harsh light was shut away. He wouldn’t return — if she could get out of bed without falling. She’d only done it once, slipping on some split water, but the administrators had told John Boy and he’d used it as yet another excuse as to why they couldn’t go home.
If she hated Cletus, the nurses and the doctors here at the Olde Tara Rehabilitation Facility, she feared and despised her brother-in-law, John Emerson Grayson III. He was the reason why they were here. And, if her dead husband was to be believed, John Boy had murdered his two older brothers, William "Billy" Titus and James "Jimmy" Randall Grayson. Together, the three brothers had run, albeit contentiously, Grayson Industries until the so-called boating accident that had claimed ten lives. No one had walked away except John Boy. Even after ten years, just the thought of Billy’s death had the power to cripple her.
However, she couldn’t think about that now. Throwing off the light blanket, she sat up in bed. Carefully alighting, she crept to the closet and pulled out her tennis shoes. She had gone to bed fully dressed in her light green, fleece, jogging suit. Before coming to Olde Tara, she’d never worn a jogging suit in her life. It took her a bit to get her shoes on, tie them and regain her breath. Lord she was getting out of shape. At seventy, she and Zoey had played tennis or golf almost every day at the country club. After six months here, she’d become old. "Now Miss Tina, what does a woman of your advanced age need with a Stairmaster. Lands, ya’ll fell out of the bed," the brassy blond hussy, who called herself the head nurse, had admonished her two weeks into their stay here.
It was all Zoey’s fault. She could have rested at home. Giles would have cared for them. Giles was always there, had been for years. But Zoey had been mad at their butler for some perceived transgression and, when she’d broken her hip, she’d agreed with John Boy that a rehabilitation hospital was the best place for her recuperation. Damn place wasn’t fit to house prize blue tick hounds much less human beings. Well, Tina couldn’t let her stay here by herself could she? They’d been closer than sisters for sixty some odd years now. Went all through school, married brothers, consoled each other when they discovered that neither brother, while regular horn dogs in bed, was fertile. It had been one of the wedges in the relationship with John Boy, whose wife Nadine popped out three little John Boy clones in quick succession.
Tina carefully cracked the door and peered down the hail. ‘Lands,’ she thought, ‘Mizz Mary would’ve had a fit if she lived to see Zoey and me living in a place this dirty. However, the parsimony of the owners of Olde Tara would work to her advantage tonight. She just prayed that Zoey would have the strength to escape with her; she was so frail. They had to do this together.
Easing out into the hallway, she carefully made her way down the corridor to Zoey’s room. Taking a deep breath she eased open the door.
"Well?" Zoey voice crackled with vitality Tina hadn’t heard in six months. "You going to take all night? Lands sake, we have to get moving here!"
Tina sighed. "Why don’t you talk a little louder? Maybe Mr. Odell in the room next door will want to come with us."
"Bosh." Zoey stood there, her hair piled high in an intricate bouffant, her make up perfect and wearing the most outrageous get up — a bright yellow taffeta and tulle suit — the skirt as full as the poodle skirts of their teen years.
"Zoey! We’re running away from hell, not going to the governor’s tea party. Take that outfit off and put on your jogging suit." For a moment she thought her best friend was going to argue, but Zoey gave her a sunny smile and pulled down her skirt, kicking off her heels as she did. Underneath she wore bright pink jogging pants, the elastic at the ankles holding the pants above her knees.
"Silly. Cletus thinks that I’m crazy anyway. If he saw me in this get up, he’d just leave me be."
Tina tapped her foot waiting for the rest of the outfit to be discarded. "Are you going to leave your nylons on?"
"Of course. Socks cut off my circulation and I don’t like to wear tennis shoes without something on my feet. I want my old clothes back," she added petulantly. "This jogging suit is the ugliest damned think I’ve ever owned. "Jimmy would be mortified."
Tina didn’t point out that Jimmy hadn’t noticed a thing that Zoey had worn for nearly twenty years before he died. Zoey was a kind soul, who always professed to not knowing of her husband’s philandering ways. And, perhaps it was the way she stayed happy. Lord knew, Tina’s fights with Billy were the stuff of legend. But then no one knew of the make up sex afterwards. Even ten years later, the memory of those times was enough that she would need to change her panties. She stood there at the door, watching down the hallway while Zoey finished dressing. "Are you going to be able to do this?" Tina whispered.
"A little late to be asking, isn’t it? Let blow this pop stand." Even though the voice was reedy and thin now, all Tina heard was the seventeen year-old who had instigated some of their more notorious escapades. When she looked back at her best friend, she didn’t see the silver blue hair or the wrinkles from too many years of smoking too many cigarettes. She saw the willowy blond who had, for a while anyway, captured the attention of the most eligible bachelor in Bradford County Alabama.
"Well, then lets blow." The two old women clutched each other’s hand and made their way to the back entrance. The lock here had been broken for three days now. Tina had double-checked it before going to dinner tonight. She shuddered at memory of that meal. The first thing she was going to do upon returning to their home in Mobile was to have Giles make her something recognizable. The cuisine at Olde Tara had certainly kept the pounds off her.
They made their way along the drive that was in need of resurfacing. Tina would have preferred going across the lawn to the tree line but she wasn’t sure about Zoey’s hip. "How are you doing?"
"We have to do this, so just stop asking me," Zoey snapped petulantly.
"Wonderful, we have to walk a mile to the diner before we can call for a cab."
"I’ll make it!" Zoey snapped.
They reached the road leading into tourist area. Tina turned to look back on Old Tara. "Lands, whatever made them think of that name? Bates Motel would have been more appropriate."
"I’m not going back there ever." Whatever pain Zoey was feeling, the fear and loathing she felt for that place overrode it. "John Boy’s gonna pay for what he did to us, Tina."
"I know."
They walked in silence for a while along the road, managing to hide the one time a car flashed by them. "You think we can hitch a ride?" Zoey said longingly.
"This late at night? Lands, Billy would whump my ass good."
"Billy’s been dead for ten years!"
"Hush up."
"You’re one crazy old woman, girlfriend."
"Maybe, but I’m all you got — and you’re all I got."
"Don’t know why..." But whatever she didn’t know was cut off as lights slashed across the road behind them. They were in a fairly open area and there wouldn’t be time to get down the slight embankment. "Oh lord, Tina? You think they know we’re gone?"
"Don’t know about that, but listen."
"I don’t hear anything.
"That’s right. That old car Cletus drives, you can hear in Tallahatchie."
"My leg hurts something fierce, Tina."
Tina sighed and the decision was made.
Walter Skinner couldn’t believe it. He was not only on vacation. He was on vacation with a capital V. Two weeks! He couldn’t remember the last vacation he’d taken. He knew it had to before taking over the X-Files. Two weeks! The Director himself had called him into his office and gruffly pointed out, "You’ve got 284 hours of use or lose Walter; after that little exhibition in the hallway, it’s obvious that you need it."
Skinner blushed in shame even now as he remembered yelling at Scully right there in front of God, her partner and half the fifth floor. She hadn’t done anything she hadn’t done for her partner before, up to and including nearly getting herself killed in the pursuit of the latest oddball case. "Werewolves! In Arizona? For God Sakes!" He’d waved his arms like a crazy man and she’d stood there taking every verbal hit with the same calm equanimity she always showed. She should’ve brought him up on charges. Hell, Mulder should’ve punched him again. But the Bad Boy of the Basement had stood there and let him yell.
Didn’t they understand how much it tore him up inside when any agent under his command was injured? How many nights had he stayed late trying to make their reports palatable to the men above him? His personal code of ethics had shifted to where it no longer even bothered him to lie about their damned expense reports. All he asked was that they return safe and sound - both of them, even Mulder, but especially Scully. Because, he’d come to accept that seeing flaming red hair and flashing blue eyes was the price — the only price — of his continued devotion to the X-Files. He wasn’t sure he could go two weeks without calling them into his office, or going down the basement himself on some trumped up problem, that could be resolved with a phone call.
Here in a rental ear, on a two-lane black-topped road in Alabama, where all he could see was an occasional glimpse of moonlight on the water through the scrub pines, he could admit to himself that he loved her. Loved her with a passion so deep it hurt. He’d never tell her. Not out of a sense of duty. Not out of the fact that he was too old for her. No. He’d never make a move because one day, some day, Fox Mulder was going to understand some basic truths: conspiracies were as much a part of life in Washington as bums on the corner; the aliens would come or they wouldn’t; and, if the aliens came, people would fight them or succumb, with or without him. And when that day came, Fox Mulder would realize that the only thing that really mattered was red hair and blue eyes and the love of a good woman.
So deep in his musing, he hadn’t realized he’d lost the baseball game he’d been listening to – even in that he was a loser. He figured Special Agent Dana Scully would strip naked in his presence and declare her love for him before the Cubs would ever win. Unfamiliar with the car, he looked away from the road to find the ‘seek’ button. Once his finger was on it, he looked back to the blacktop with its white line and green and pink... "God Damn! Son-of-a-Bitch!" His foot slammed on the brakes and he stared into the terrified eyes of the old woman in the middle of the road, imperiously holding up her hand for him to stop.
He surged out of the car. "Are you okay? What the hell are you thinking? What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?" The adrenaline was pumping through his veins so hard his muscles ached. The last time he’d been this scared was when he got the report that Scully had been attacked in Arizona.
The woman, who couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds without the hideous sweat suit hanging from her frame, looked at him just like Scully always did when she expected him to buy what she was saying hook, line and expense account. Had he not been so relieved that she and her pink-clad friend were fine; he might have considered that fact more closely.
"Well!" Tina huffed. "I declare! Ya’ll come barrellin’ down this little country lane like ya’ll are Dale Junior or something and you yell at me?"
"I’m sorry. But I repeat: what are you two ladies doing out here at..." he checked his watch and glared at her. "Ten o’clock at night?"
"Well, if you must know, our car broke down back at the lake and we were walking into town to get help." Tina told the lie with the same ease that she used to lie to Billy over the purchase of yet another evening frock that she didn’t need. ‘Why this old thing? Lands, Billy I’ve had this for years, just never had a chance to wear it before.’ In fact, this fine young man reminded her of her dear Billy in his younger days. Unfortunately, this young man didn’t seem to feel the need to grovel like Billy would’ve done under her stern gaze and pouting lips, a trick she’d learned at her momma’s knee, perfected and refined over sixty years.
Skinner, as he always did when scared shitless, attacked. "You don’t have a cell phone? You could’ve been killed. Worse!" He waved his hands in the air. "What if I was a thug or, or, or…?"
"Tina?" Zoey whined. Why did it always come down to her? She always had to fix things. "My leg is really bothering me." It didn’t really. In fact she felt wonderful. But she hated walking in the dark. It scared her. "I feel quite faint."
In the headlights of his rental car, Skinner took a better look at the two. He towered over both of them and he was sure that, together, they didn’t reach his weight of 195 (okay 210). Even in this day of women’s jib, which these two were either the founding mothers of, or had never heard of, he didn’t really think that either meant, or could do, him harm. Sighing dramatically, he pointed to the car. "Where are you going?"
Tina sighed in relief. She really hadn’t known how tired the short walk would leave her. She really was going to have to hurt John Boy. "Why just into town aways," she simpered.
"Which town?" Skinner ground out. He checked his watch again. He didn’t think he’d be able to check in tonight anyway.
"Why Martinsville, just outside of Mobile," Tina said as if he should’ve known.
The two women climbed into the back seat as if he was the damned chauffeur and they were out for an evening’s drive. The glare he gave them had been known to make everyone but Dana Scully cringe. "Mobile is forty miles south of here."
"Oh dear," sighed the pink-clad lady. "Tina, we really went too far this time. Giles is going to be quite upset with us. We should call him, you know."
Tina gave Zoey an appreciative look. After she broke her hip, Zoey had sunk into a deep depression. However, now, by the light of the dashboard lights, Tina could see the spark that had been missing in those hazel eyes. "You’re quite right." Never taking her eyes off her friend, she added confidently, "I’m afraid I left my purse in the car. This nice young man must think we are quite the doddering fools, don’t you Mr..." She turned her gaze to Skinner sitting in the front seat eyeing them speculatively. "Mr???" she repeated.
"Skinner. Walter Skinner. And you ladies are?"
"Well, I am Mrs. William Titus Grayson and this is Mrs. James Randall Grayson.
Falling into the pattern that had kept them both out of the doghouse in their glory days at Smith after WW2, Zoey lightly slapped her friend’s shoulder and leaned forward. "Oh dear. You must forgive her; she’s such a fuddy-duddy in this day and age. Lands sakes, Walter, you call me Zoey and this is Tina."
Somewhere deep inside him, Skinner knew he was being played. He hadn’t survived internal FBI politics, GCB Spender, or Fox Mulder, by being oblivious. However, for the life of him, he found himself entranced. "Where in Mobile?"
"Why sugah, you just drive and we’ll get you there. This is so sweet of you." Tina sank back into the plush leather of the backseat, deep into the shadows. She had time to think.
Skinner started to turn around, but Zoey squeezed his forearm. "Yes?"
"Ya’ll wouldn’t have a cell phone that we could borrow?" Zoey asked breathlessly. They had to let Giles know what was going on. She just hoped that John Boy, who Tina had never liked, but she had until recently, hadn’t evicted their butler and confidant.
Skinner pulled out his cell phone and started to hand it to her. Instead, he demanded, "Number?"
Tina was already altering her plan. This strapping young man might come in handy. She wondered if they could appeal to his sense of chivalry. She knew he was chivalrous. It never occurred to her that he wouldn’t be. However, she thought he might need to be managed. "Ya’ll don’t trust us, Mr. Skinner?" she said formally.
"It isn’t a matter of trust, it’s just this phone is a bit complicated." In truth, just last month, Mulder, who was no one’s fool, managed to erase every number in his memory. And, from the look on his face and the fact that they’d hadn’t been involved in anything remotely calling for Mulder to exact revenge, Skinner was convinced it had been an accident.
"Now, Tina, it’s not like it’s a secret or anything. Lands." Zoey gave Skinner the number and he punched it in and once he heard it ringing, handed her the phone. "I’ll turn it off, if you don’t mind."
"Of course, dear." Zoey listened with growing anxiety. If Giles wasn’t there she didn’t know what they were going to do."
"Grayson residence," the familiar voice intoned in a clipped British accent.
‘Thank God,’ she thought. "Giles?"
"Miss Zoey? Is something wrong? What’s happened?"
Remembering their rather lame cover story, Zoey began. "Well, I’m afraid the car broke down."
"Car? What bloody car?"
Clayton Giles never swore, and being English, ‘Bloody’ was quite the swear word. She ignored his question and plowed on. "I’m afraid that property that Tina and I were looking at just won’t do at all, Giles. We decided to come home tonight."
"Merciful heavens. Did you two scarper? Are you fit enough for that? Mr. Grayson informed us that you’d taken a turn for the worse."
Zoey sighed deeply. She really did hate it when Tina was right about something. Particularly right about something that Zoey had refused to believe for many years. And, it looked like Tina had been right about their mutual brother-in-law. "Well, I’m afraid that Mr. John was quite wrong about that piece of business. Thank goodness a very nice young man, a Mr. Skinner by name, happened upon us as we were walking toward town."
"Walking! To Town! What town? That home is the middle of..."
"I know that. We’ll be home in a bit." She started to hand the phone to Skinner, but pulled it back for a last plea. "I don’t suppose you have any of your marvelous gumbo made?"
"You get home, Miss Zoey, I’ll make you the best gumbo you’ve ever had."
"Bless you, Giles."
Skinner turned around in the seat and put the car in gear. He had just gotten up to speed when Tina spoke up. "We do appreciate your assistance, Mr. Skinner."
"Well, I couldn’t leave you out there on the road. Will you be able to get your car towed?"
"Oh, Giles will handle all that."
"Who is this Giles person?"
"Quite a remarkable man, actually," Tina smirked in the shadows. "He’s our butler and our cook and our dri. . ." Zoey practically put her elbow through Tina’s ribs. Tina glared and continued, "Our driver, when we need to put on airs." In fact, neither woman had owned a driver’s license in over a decade. After Tina’s fifth accident, the insurance company had insisted and Zoey, in a show of solidarity, had given hers up too.
"He’s English, you know," Zoey took up the story. "I think he has a rather colorful past, one he doesn’t talk about to genteel women though."
Tina bit back her snort. She knew all about Giles’ colorful past, but she didn’t want to dwell on it. She had to plan. She knew that Walter Skinner had been sent, if not by her Billy, then by some act of providence. She knew that John Boy would know soon enough that they had escaped. He would send his henchmen to the house. They needed to get in, get the papers, and be on their way. They had to be in Atlanta for the stockholder’s meeting next Monday. Quite a lot could happen in a week. Giles, though devoted, was getting old too. She wasn’t sure how old, but she saw the grimaces when he didn’t think anyone was looking. No, they needed a young gun.
"What is it you do, dear?" She asked just outside the city limits.
Without thinking, Walter Skinner secured his fate — in more ways than one. "I’m an Assistant Director of the FBI."
"Oh my," Zoey breathed in awe.
"An Assistant Director!," Tina said, her distress real. "Are you here on a very important case?"
"No ma’am. I’m on two weeks vacation."
"And we’re keeping you from it," Zoey said sadly.
Tina, however, needed more information. "I’m sure that you will be bothered everyday. That’s how it was with my dear departed husband right up to the day he...died. Why, even on our second honeymoon to Europe, they just couldn’t leave him alone."
"Well, I don’t think that will be a problem this trip," Skinner said firmly. He’d made sure of that. With the exception of Kim Cook and the Director, no one knew where he was vacationing. He struggled with what to do with Mulder, and in a valiant hope for quiet, sent him on a law enforcement conference to Hawaii. ‘Let him find the ghosts of the old gods or something – far, far away.
When he’d made the announcement, he’d offered to send Scully with Mulder, but she’d adamantly shaken her head no. "I might take some time, but I’ve got some reports to catch up on and I want to straighten out my space." She’d looked up at the pencil-riddled ceiling and Mulder had sighed petulantly.
As he drove through the night, he wondered idly if Scully liked to fish.
Zoey felt her friend relax completely. "What are you planning?" her hiss was covered the by hum of the car. She did so like a man with enough money and common sense to rent a decent size car. This one was quite comfortable, almost as nice as the Rolls, though anything after the six months of pure misery she’d gone through would be nice.
"Hush, now. We’re almost home. Oh look, there’s the Piggly-Wiggly!"
"You hate the Piggly-Wiggly."
"Do not."
"Do so!"
Skinner rolled his eyes. He’d been an only child of only children. It had been a lonely childhood that had prepared him for his independent life. It had not prepared him for these two loons in the backseat of his car. "Ladies! Am I on the right street?"
"Yes. You turn at the post office."
Skinner sighed. "And that would be how far away?"
"Oh! Turn right now!"
Skinner missed the turn and had to go around the block but soon he was pulling up in front of a Victorian mansion, surrounded by magnolia trees. He looked back at the two old women trying to judge if he was going to have to explain something to irate owners and/or the police.
"Just pull into the driveway. We always go around back."
He was relieved when the door was flung open and a very tall man, with a gray mustache and black hair came out to stand on the back stoop under the breezeway sheltering the back entrance.
Skinner climbed out to hear a strong British accent, "Mr. Skinner?"
"That’s correct. This is the Grayson house?"
"Yes, sir. I am Clayton Giles, the major domo here." Skinner thought he was going to say something else; instead, he stiffly walked to the car and opened the back door. As he peered inside, Skinner got the distinct impression that the man relaxed some. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but then, it wasn’t his business. He would get the name of a hotel nearby and then tomorrow morning he would make his way to the fishing resort.
Giles had absolutely no idea what the devil was going on, but heartily greeted his employers. "Miss Tina, Miss Zoey, welcome home."
Zoey reached out and cupped Giles’ cheek; the tears in her eyes reflected back the dim light from the kitchen. "Oh Giles, it’s so good to be home."
"No has called about us have they?" Tina demanded.
"No ma’am. Is Mr. Skinner to be trusted?"
"Oh, eventually." Tina waved him back.
Giles scooted back out of the car, and held out his hand to help the ladies. Glancing back over his shoulder, he wondered what plans Miss Tina had. He had come to despise Mr. Grayson the third. However, Miss Tina’s plans, of late had been quite frightening at times. He took a deep sigh. However, they needed him, and Mr. William Grayson had provided for him with a trust that no one, not even Mr. Grayson the fourth, a true ponce if anyone cared what Clayton Giles thought, could break. He would do what they wanted him to do, unquestioningly, or die trying. "Very good, Miss Tina."
Skinner waited for the formalities of being thanked. However, Tina walked right by him toward the door to the house. Fuck it. He’d find his own hotel. "Well, ladies, I’ll be going."
Tina turned in shock. "Don’t be silly! Ya’ll come in right this minute. Giles fixed dinner."
Skinner checked his watch to confirm the time. "Ma’am, it’s late. I need to find a hotel."
"I thought you were fishing?" she purred. "Don’t you have a room or a cabin or something?"
"Yes ma ‘am," Skinner gritted out. "About forty miles back north of here."
"Oh dear," Zoey released her grip on Giles’ arm to stand before Skinner. Peering up into his face she murmured. "We are terrible." The tears in her voice sound real, even to her. She reached out and gripped his arm. "Mr. Skinner, can you ever forgive us?"
Skinner had that feeling again, but she looked so contrite that he just sighed. "There’s nothing to forgive. There was never a question that I wouldn’t see you ladies home. But, I really must go now.
"Nonsense!" Tina declared from the back door. "This old place has seven bedrooms. You’ll stay here tonight." And, as if men still stumbled over each other to do what she wanted without argument, she turned and entered their kitchen.
Zoey hooked her arm through his. "Come along, Walter; it’s no use, you know. Everyone does what Tina wants. I’m sure Giles made enough for all of us. He still cooks like every day is Sunday dinner."
The large kitchen was done in gingerbread and was full of homey touches, but the appliances were state of the art. The smell from the gently simmering pot slammed into his stomach like a jackhammer.
"Oh sweet Jesus above," Tina sighed in utter contentment. "Heaven itself will not be better than this." She paused as if listening to something, blushed brightly and added, "Of course, heaven will have Billy."
Skinner concern for the old women was growing, though he had no idea why. They were safe in their home with a manservant to see to their needs. As he sat at the large oak table and allowed Giles’ to put a steaming bowl of stew before him, he tried to analyze his worry.
"Mr. Skinner?" Tina said formally. "Would you care for a glass of Bushmills?"
"Thank you, no. Water would be fine."
"There is sweet tea, sir." Giles said as he went to the refrigerator.
"Uhm...just water." There were just some things about the South that Skinner had never appreciated, like grits, sweet tea and Toby McGuire.
Tina and Zoey, faced with the first decent food they’d eaten in six months, forgot everything for a moment. Appreciative mewls of pleasure were their only comments until both ladies sat back in their chairs and sighed in utter satiation.
"Marvelous," Tina declared.
Zoey, forgetting that Skinner was there, added heartily, "Dear, dear Giles, we did so miss you at that horrid place."
Skinner carefully put down his spoon, and wiped his mouth. Giving Tina his best, "Fuck that shit, Mulder, tell me the damned truth" glare, he demanded, "What horrid place?"
Tina had already scrambled for a lie but the shrill ringing of the phone on the wall spared her. Giving Giles a worried glance she nodded her head for him to answer.
The two old women held their breath. Skinner was working out the problem in his head as he heard Giles answer, "Grayson residence," as if it were four in the afternoon and not two minutes to midnight. "Ah, Mr. John, rather late to..." He listened for a long while. "Oh my. How dreadful. No. No. I haven’t. No. I do understand. Yes, you’re quite right. I’m sure that’s the case, sir. No. I’d appreciate a phone call as soon as you have tracked them down. Very well, Mr. John." He carefully replaced the receiver in its cradle. Only after taking a deep breath, did he turn around. Skinner watched the play of emotions as the butler faced the three people sitting at the table. "It seems that two of Mr. John’s...horses escaped from their paddock. He was quite distraught."
Zoey’s face paled, but she didn’t look away. Tina’s lips actually twitched. "Oh, how distressing for John Boy. Those fillies always did cause him nothing but trouble."
Skinner swallowed his snort. He had no idea what he was in the middle of. Damn
It! It was his vacation and there were tarpon and perhaps even a marlin with his name on it. He should just get up and leave. But the question had to be asked. "Just where did you two escape from?"
Zoey dropped her gaze to her almost clean bowl, the bright blush that crept high into her scalp shone through her thin hair. When Tina met his stern look, with one of her own, he was once again reminded of Scully. "Mr. Skinner! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Lands! Look at the time." She stood and walked out of the kitchen.
Skinner pushed back his chair and followed her into the darkened dining room. For a frail old woman, she moved with surprising speed, he thought. They entered the library before he could reach out and touch her shoulder. "Miss Grayson!" He gently turned her to face him. "You’re going to have to tell me." He tried a smile, to calm her. "Really, now. How bad can it be?"
Tina felt the tears threaten. She needed time. And, she suspected that they didn’t have it. Not here at least. She had to think. Plans didn’t come as easily as they used to. Heaving a sigh she nodded toward a chair. "Sit down...Walter. I’ll explain everything."
Six years with the X-Files had inured him to that phase. Was it something in his make-up that attracted people like Mulder and Scully and now these two? He turned to sit on the large couch when he saw the monster stretched out there. "Dear God!" The massive head of the bulldog rose, its rheumy red eyes opening to consider the interloper.
"TW! Get down from there," Zoey exclaimed as she and Giles entered the library. The groan from the massive chest filled the room. Skinner suspected that the damned thing was as old as the rest of the residents. It seemed to take forever for him to stand. Only then did he peer down at the floor. Skinner found that he was holding his breath as the dog dropped to the floor. He was rather surprised that the animal didn’t shatter or bounce. Once on the floor, the dog swung his head, considering each person. Finally making his decision, he ambled over to Skinner and began to sniff. By the time he was done, Skinner shoe was sopping wet. A deep rumble from deep inside the dog’s chest erupted into one lone garraph. Seemingly satisfied that Skinner was acceptable, it turned back to the sofa, flopped down and stretched out on the rug in front of it, leaving no room for Skinner or anyone to sit without stepping on him.
"TW," Zoey sighed. "Sit in the Queen Anne, Walter."
Skinner gazed at the delicate chair. Crossing his arms he remained where he stood. "Now, someone explain to me what’s going on here," he growled in his best AD voice. TW opened one eye and Skinner swore that the dog snorted in contempt.
Tina had used the time that TW had inadvertently bought her. She’d made her way to the portrait of Billy’s great-great-great grandmother and pulled it back to reveal the wall safe.
"Lands, Tina!" Zoey groaned. "Ya’ll know that’s no good. Neither one of us remember the combination."
"Billy told me," Tina said as she stood there staring at the dial. "Why’d you think I said it was time to go?"
"Tina! Billy’s been dead for ten years! He doesn’t talk to you."
"Oh pooh. You’re just mad cause Jimmy doesn’t come and visit you."
"Like I’d let him. I’d give him a piece of my mind if he ever tried to haunt me."
Skinner looked aghast at the two women and finally turned to Giles. Surely he was the voice of reason here. "What was that call really about?"
Giles lifted his chin and Skinner could see a look that he himself often wore when confronted with one of the other ADs or DDs over something Scully and Mulder had done. It said, ‘they may be loons, but they’re my loons, so just back off.’ "I believe it is Miss Tina’s place to tell the story, sir."
"Well, madam?" Skinner returned his glare to Tina, who was still considering the safe. She was done with the combination, and Skinner could feel the tension flow off the other two as she took a deep breath and grasped the handle. Three sighs floated up as the door swung open.
"You remembered it!" Zoey snapped.
"Did not. Billy told me.
"Billy’s dead!"
"Miss Zoey!" Giles gently admonished her. "Don’t be mean. Miss Mary wouldn’t like it."
Zoey didn’t look particularly contrite to Skinner, however she hung her head and whispered, "Sorry."
"They’re here!" Tina said excitedly as she pulled out a thick brown document envelope. "See! Oh, we can win now."
This was beginning to smell like one of Mulder’s more odiferous 302’s. Skinner decided he really didn’t want to know what was going on. "Ladies, I see that you’re in good hands. I’ll just be going."
He was watching Zoey, who was staring at him with some emotion he couldn’t read. He didn’t see Tina move back to the safe or reach inside. However, the light glinted off the metal and he froze as she pointed a very deadly looking .38 special at him. "Oh I can’t let you go, Walter. We have need of you and perhaps even the FBI."
Zoey and Giles stepped away from him. "This is ridiculous. I saved you on the road, drove forty miles past my lodgings and you’re going to pull a gun on me?" Skinner fisted his hands on his hips and glared at her. "This is Southern hospitality? I rather think the Daughters of the Confederacy might frown on this!"
Tina licked her lips. It had been a very long time since she’d fired at gun. She knew she couldn’t hurt him. But she desperately needed to explain why he had to help her. "I’ll tell you everything," she whispered. "But not now. We have to go. John Boy will check here, sure as the sun rises." She swallowed and couldn’t keep one tear from tracking down her cheek.
Skinner instantly melted, though he didn’t let her see it. He hated tears. It was yet another thing he admired about Dana Scully. She never cried — at least in front of him. Softening his voice, he took a step towards her. "We’ll sit down, and you can tell me all about it. However, you have to give me the gun.
"No." Her voice trembled. "There’s no time. We have to go. You don’t understand."
He smiled gently. "I do understand one thing."
"What?" she demanded, raising the gun, already knowing that she’d give him the gun and that because of that, John Boy would win.
"You’re not going to shoot me." He reached out his hand.
"Of course, Miss Tina would never shoot you," Giles interrupted. His voice was firm, with none of the gentleness he’d shown the two old women. "However, I can assure you that I have killed men before."
Skinner spun around and found yet another gun trained on him. This one, a shiny, obviously well cared-for Glock, was held in a steady hand. The look on Giles’ face was pained, but determined.
Skinner sighed deeply. "You realize that you’ve pulled a gun on a Federal agent?"
Giles tilted his head. "Well, I must say, I’ve never done that before." A smile came and went. "I wanted to once. However, as you Yanks are so fond of saying there’s a first time for everything." "Put that down now," he told Tina.
"Yes Giles," Tina said meekly. "We need to go soon. John Boy’s nobody’s fool. I’ve got the papers. We just need a place to hide for a week."
"A week!" Skinner roared. "A week? What the hell happens in a week?"
"I’ll explain all that. But we need to go."
Zoey turned toward the doorway that they hadn’t used yet. "Not yet. I’m not staying in this outfit another minute."
"Zoey!"
"Don’t you start with me, Tina Mae!"
No one had called her that in fifty years. The last person to do so received a black eye. Tina puffed out her chest to argue, but Giles quickly took control of the situation. "Now Miss Tina! Miss Zoey. Both of you go upstairs and change. Mr. John is in Shreveport. His boys are not close enough to get here before morning. Sheriff Truman can’t abide any of them, so unless one of them is here to make a case, you’re safe enough for an hour or so. You ladies go on upstairs and change. Pack a suitcase — ONE suitcase each and hurry back down. I’ll keep Mr. Skinner company."
The two women hurried out of the room. Skinner faced his opponent, ready to talk reason. "Look. You’re not a stupid man. I am a Federal agent. You don’t want this grief."
"On the contrary, sir," Giles said. "It has been a long time since there was any real excitement in this house. Besides, Miss Tina says she needs to talk to you. Once we get to where we’re going, then she’ll explain it all. I’m sure that you will be amenable to helping her. Everyone, except for those blackguards, always do."
"What the hell is going on that is so bad that you’re willing to risk serious jail time over?"
Giles wryly shook his head. "You must understand, Mr. Skinner, it isn’t necessary the situation. It is the debt that I owe William Grayson. He and I served together in Vietnam."
"I was in Nam," Skinner snapped.
"Quite a bit younger and quite a bit later, I expect. Regardless. I owe William Grayson more than you can understand. It is a debt that will never be paid in full. Had Miss Tina asked me to shoot you over an imagined slight, I would have. However, be assured that this is not a slight, imagined or otherwise. In fact, I would say that, with the proper explanation, you’d be more than willing to help the ladies. It might even fall into the realm of National Security."
Skinner snorted. "You need a better argument than that."
Giles raised the gun higher and Skinner could see that the safety was off. "Will this suffice, Mr. Skinner?"
Tina’s heart was pounding as she stripped off the hated green jogging suit. She struggled to get the pants off over her gym shoes, as she didn’t want to take the time to deal with the knots. From the walk in closet, containing more clothes than any three women needed, she found a soft pants suit. She longed for a bath, but that would have to wait. She just hoped that Zoey would hurry. "Billy?" she whispered fearfully.
"I’m right here darlin’."
"Billy we did it. I’ve got the papers. But, John Boy’s coming. I just feel it."
"I expect he is. You done good finding that boy downstairs. He’ll help you. You’re just going to have to explain it to him. I have a feeling that he’s heard worse."
"I can’t let Giles hurt him though."
"Oh, Giles is a good man. Zoey should’ve married him instead of Jimmy. Damn fool women always falling for that pretty boy smile."
"Yes, yes. But Billy, where are we going to hide? We have to hide for a whole week. You know that if we go to Atlanta, John Boy will find us." Her voice dropped fearfully. "You know I love you something fierce, Billy. But I’m not ready to cross over just yet. I still want to see Alaska and Venice. You were supposed to take me to Venice."
"Tina Girl! Get a hold of yourself. I’m going to tell you just where you can hide for a week. I ‘spect it’s going to take you the whole time to convince Mr. FBI downstairs that he needs to help you. But once you do, he’ll do the job right. Now listen close."
Tina listened as she packed her suitcase. The plan was sound. She just had to convince Zoey. Zoey was kind of funny about some things. She made sure she had her prescriptions and shoved the proxy documents inside the pocket. "Stupid rule. We shouldn’t have to go in person," she muttered.
"Oh? And if we’d set it up any other way, you think he would’ve let you live?" The voice in her head whispered.
Tina made her way down the hall to Zoey’s room. After their husbands died, they’d lived in their separate houses for all of six months. However, they spent so much time together, Giles, who had served the William Graysons for most of their married lives, suggested that the two women combine households. Since Zoey hated the antebellum mansion Jimmy had insisted upon, she’d gladly sold it and moved in with Tina. There were times when the women fought like the sisters they truly were, but most times they got along just fine.
"What the hell are you doing?" Tina cried when she saw the mess in Zoey’s room. "Giles said one suitcase."
Zoey looked around at all the clothes that she would need for a week. "Lands sake, the man must be crazed if he thinks that I can fit everything I need into one suitcase." She picked up a dinner frock and started to pack it.
"Zoey Buchard Grayson!" Tina stamped her foot so hard she thought she might get a spur in her ankle. "Where we’re going, you won’t be needing that dress. Any dress come to think of it."
"Don’t be silly. We have to go out for dinner, don’t we?" She folded several slips and another dress.
Tina took a deep breath. "Go sit down. I’ll do it."
"Tina!" But Zoey saw the determined look on Tina’s face. In sixty years Tina usually let her have her way, except when she got The Look. "But..." She gasped as Tina swept away all the dresses but one rather ugly demur number. "But..." Choosing the largest of the three suitcases Zoey had pulled out of her own walk-in closet, Tina packed four pairs of slacks, two pairs of jeans, a variety of tops, underwear, several nightgowns, bras and her necessary case. "But..." Next a pair of Doc Martens she’d bought in Arizona two years ago. Her slippers and a sensible pair of flats were the last to go in before Tina zipped the case shut. "Aren’t we going to go out to dinner?" Zoey finally managed. "I do so like going out for dinner."
"No. Where we’re going, Giles can cook for us."
"Where are we going?" Zoey demanded petulantly.
"You don’t want to know."
"Tina Mae!"
Tina jabbed her finger right into Zoey’s shoulder. "Stop it. Billy says this is the only place. And, so help me, if you tell me he’s dead one more time, I’m going to leave you here to face John Boy."
Zoey’s eyes immediately filled with tears. "You wouldn’t dare," she breathed.
Tina gripped her shoulders. "Listen to me. This is too important. No matter what, we have to make this right. We can’t let John Boy win."
Zoey sighed deeply. "We’re going to Jimmy’s cabin, aren’t we?"
Tina stared at her. "You know about…"
"Course. Ya’ll think just because I didn’t let on like you did over every little thing that Billy did, that I didn’t know about Jimmy? Ya’ll don’t know the half of it. None of ya’ll did. Didn’t matter to me. He loved me!" She said fiercely. "I know he did. He was just so full of life that I wasn’t enough for him. But he loved me." She jerked away, her voice rising with each word. "He spent every Thanksgiving, every Christmas, every New Years and every Fourth of July with ME!"
Tina hugged her friend tight. "I know sugah. I know." She let her go again and said forcefully, "Now, lets blow."
"Should we call Giles to come get the bags?"
Tina rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Mr. Skinner needs a long talking to before we can trust him, Zoey. Come on, you can do it. They got those little wheels on them see.
Skinner watched Giles carefully. He suspected that, forty years ago, the man would’ve been a formidable opponent. "What were you in Viet Nam?"
"MI-6, so don’t bother trying any games, old boy. I may be old but I’m not ready for the grave yet." As he finished, loud thumps, crashes and bangs rattled the house. Skinner jerked up, but Giles calmly stopped him with, "It’s just the ladies getting their suitcases down the stairs. Let’s go meet them, shall we. I’m afraid you’ll have to carry them out to the car.
Skinner was in a quandary. He could probably take out Giles and bring this dramady to an end; however, something whispered in his soul that he was needed. Besides, with his luck, to neutralize Giles, he’d not only have to hurt him badly but would probably hurt himself in the process. And, the two old ladies would never forgive him for that.
As he entered the hall, he nearly tripped as something twined around his legs. "What the hell?" He glared down at a huge sleek, pure white cat.
"Maggie!" Zoey cried as she came down the steps, sidestepping the suitcase resting against the railing of the landing. The cat purred loudly, twined around Skinner’s legs, marking him again, before going to meet her mistress. Zoey, with ease that belied her age, sank to the carpeted floor and pulled the cat into her arms.
Skinner, surprised at hearing a cat called by Scully’s mother’s name lifted his eyebrow in question. "Odd name for a cat."
"No it’s not," Zoey cooed. "She’s Maggie the Cat."
Skinner looked at her, the cat, then back at the bulldog. TW was standing panting noisily, long strands of drool hanging from his jowls. "TW? Let me guess. You named the dog — a bulldog — Tennessee Williams? And, then proceeded to name your cat after one of his characters?"
Zoey bestowed a bright smile on him. "Now, for a Yankee, that’s pretty darn insightful, Walter."
He returned her smile with a tired one of his own. "Texas, ma’am. And my mother was a English teacher with a fondness for the Southern writers."
The phone rang again and the four looked at the antique on the hall table. "Go on, Giles," Skinner snapped. "Answer it. Tell this Mr. John, that his two looney... what? What is he, ladies? Your son? You’re guardian? What did you escape from?"
"Hush up now, Walter," Tina said tiredly. "Go on, Giles."
Keeping the gun trained on Skinner, Giles picked up the receiver. "Grayson... Mr. John there’s no need to yell. No sir. They’re not here and I resent your accusation."
Skinner was very impressed. Giles didn’t appear to be flustered at all. And he knew that the man wouldn’t kill him — at least he was fairly confident in that. However, Giles just might wound him and wouldn’t that ruin his vacation. He had to figure a safe way out of this. He allowed Giles to see him relax and he was bestowed with a slight nod.
However, Giles didn’t move the gun away, even as he listened intently. "Of course I’ll call you if I hear from them. You said Miss Zoey is quite frail. Frankly, sir, I don’t know how they would reach the house. The closet town to the home is ten miles away isn’t it? You don’t think they are lost in the woods, do you?" He listened some more, his intense dislike for the caller apparent on his face. Finally, he sighed and hung up the phone. "How Charles Emerson Grayson could have had a son so totally devoid of any character is beyond me. Are you quite sure Mr. Charles and Miss Mary didn’t adopt him?" he asked Tina who was pulling both suitcases to the center of the room.
"Not that I ever heard, and he does look just like his name sake." She glanced at Skinner and added for his benefit. "That would be Billy granddaddy, John Emerson Grayson, Jr. But John Boy doesn’t look nothin’ like either of his brothers. Hmmm. You’ve an evil mind, Giles, to think such things about Miss Mary."
For the first time since meeting him, Skinner thought Giles looked truly shock. "Miss Tina! I never!" Skinner saw the twinkle in Tina’s eye and, evidently, so did Giles because he dropped it and asked, quite calmly, "Do you have any idea where we are going?"
"Oh yes. But, I’m not sure how it will work to get there. You’ll have to give me the gun and drive the Rolls."
"Don’t worry about that, Miss Tina. Though, if I might suggest, we’ll take Mr. Skinner’s car. They’ll be looking for the Rolls."
"Oh." The disappointment was apparent on both women’s faces. "You’re car is quite nice, Walter, but it’s not a Rolls," Zoey hastened to point out, lest they hurt his feelings.
"Sorry," he replied drolly.
"Oh. Wait." Zoey said, huffing as she pushed off the floor. "What about Giles? He needs to pack a bag."
Giles was obviously pleased that Zoey had thought of him. "Actually, Miss, when I received your first phone call, I took the precaution of packing a suitcase. It’s in my room. We’ll get it after you and Miss Tina are settled."
The last of the adrenaline that had been keeping him awake had long since leached from his system. Skinner shook his head and glanced over at Giles, who had his gun still firmly in hand. "I don’t know how you’re managing this," he offered. "It’s not safe for me to keep this up much longer."
Giles nodded and glanced back at the two old women, both sound asleep, their silvered heads resting against each other, impervious to the snores of TW, nestled between them, his head on Tina’s thigh. The cat was curled up in a tight ball in Zoey’s lap. "They need to rest properly. We’re still quite a ways from the cabin."
"Look, you know this is no good. Let me help you, but…"
Giles just lifted the gun a little higher. "I have every confidence that you will come around, however, Mr. Skinner, you will abide by Miss Tina’s schedule. There’s a town just south of Montgomery. We’ll find rooms there."
Skinner sighed but took the exit that Giles indicated. He was very impressed by the man’s stamina, and by his innate intelligence. Giles, after retrieving his suitcase, had Skinner load it and the other suitcases into the rented Cadillac. Then he’d searched the glove compartment. When he didn’t find what he was looking for he’d trained the gun on Skinner’s chest. "Where is it, sir?"
"Where’s what?" Skinner had snapped back.
"Come now. I was in the game too long. An Assistant Director of the FBI - that is what you told Miss Tina and Miss Zoey wasn’t it – would never go anywhere without his gun. Where, sir?"
Skinner had run over several lies but finally admitted. "Under the front seat. I’ll get it."
"No sir." Giles had turned to Tina who retrieved not only his holstered Sig Sauer, but also the small case containing his handcuffs. Giles had been right. It had been second nature for him to bring the items that had been as much a part of his dress code as his starched white shirt and neatly knotted tie.
He tried to argue about the livestock, but Zoey had gently explained. "We can’t leave TW or Maggie. You should understand that. Who’ll feed them? Besides, they are quite good on car trips."
"So?" he demanded as he pulled into the motel’s parking lot at dawn. "Would you like me to go and check us in?"
"Don’t be obtuse Mr. Skinner!" Giles held up the handcuffs. "Cuff yourself to the steering wheel, give me the keys." He started to open the door, but further demanded, "Give me your wallet."
"Terrific, you’re going to make me pay?"
"He won’t be looking for you. Oh and give me your cell phone."
Skinner sat fuming; wondering if he should try and attract the attention of the maid just arriving for her shift.
"I truly appreciate your help, Walter." Tina’s reedy voice sounded very tired and, looking back at her, Skinner tried to keep his face stern. However, he saw just how frail and helpless the old woman was. Zoey was looking around, thoroughly confused. "I promise." Tina continued. "When we get there, I’ll tell you everything. Who knows, you might get a promotion out of it."
Skinner snorted and shook his head wearily. "All I wanted was two weeks away from Buffy and Angel."
"Who?"
"Never mind," he sighed. Frankly, he would welcome Mulder’s assistance right now. But he’d blown that. He was sure that Mulder at this very moment was sweet-talking some nimble young stripper into coming back to his room. Fool. His mind flittered to Scully and wondered what she would think of the mess he’d gotten himself into. He imagined the quirk of her eyebrow rising in astonishment at the very thought of the ‘Hard-ass of the Hoover’ letting three old people kidnap him. Would she do anything to ransom him? Bitterness overwhelmed his exhausted mind. If she did, it would only be to insure she and Mulder had someone over them who would allow them leeway with the X-Files. At least their time on fertilizer patrol had shown them that he was valuable in some aspects of their lives.
"You need to move the car over there."
Skinner jerked out of his light doze to find Giles sitting next to him. He held up the hand attached to the steering wheel.
"I’ll give you the key once I get the ladies settled." However old he was, Giles was looking every year of it. Skinner put the car into gear and wearily drove the twenty car-lengths to park where Giles indicated.
Giles helped both ladies out of the car. He then picked up Maggie and handed her to Zoey. He left the car door open and led both women to their room. He then got their suitcases from the trunk. Finally, he returned for TW. Skinner had to admire the economy with which Giles preformed each task. TW had stared at the jump to the ground and balked. Giles returned to the car, sighed heavily before stooping to pick up the dog. Skinner marveled that the old man could heft a dog that had to weight sixty pounds or more. Giles set the dog inside the hotel room, said something to the women then closed the door. Only then did he give in to his pain. Skinner saw the spasm that racked the thin body. Putting his hands to his lower back, Giles took a moment to stretch his aching muscles. However, he was soon back at the car, his hand in the pocket where he’d deposited his gun. "I’m very tired, Mr. Skinner. Do not try my patience." He handed Skinner the handcuff key, waited until Skinner was standing outside the car before motioning him to go to the trunk. Skinner retrieved his suitcase and the small case that Giles had packed for himself.
The room was just like any motel room. Two queen beds with headboards little more than fashioned pieces of wood nailed to the wall. "Go to the bathroom, Mr. Skinner. Do whatever it is you need to do then strip naked."
"I beg your pardon?"
"There is no place for me to cuff you to the bed. The only thing I can do is to make it unpalatable for you to escape. I wish your word would be enough. However, in this day and age of situational ethics…"
"Situational ethics! You’re the one holding a gun on me!"
Giles conceded the point. "Go on now."
Skinner stripped out of his clothes, washed his face and yelled out to Giles. "Can I at least have my kit bag? I need to brush my teeth."
The door opened and the bag was shoved inside. "Your clothes, sir." Skinner shoved his bundled clothes through the door and held his breath. "Your underwear, Mr. Skinner."
Skinner knew he would have only one chance. He needed to overpower Giles now. It was getting ridiculous. For God’s sake the man had to have at least thirty years on him. Skinner outweighed him by at least fifty pounds and stood several inches taller. What kind of sissy was he to let an old man control him? He searched through his kit and damned his luck. Disposable razor, stick deodorant and, in his entire life he’d never used an aerosol hairspray. He’d have to overpower Giles.
Once again, the old man was on top of the situation. Skinner came out of the bathroom, prepared to attack the man on the other side of the door. Unfortunately, Giles, naked save for a pair of underwear at least three sizes too small for Skinner, was across the room sitting on the lone chair. "Here are the facts. You will lie down on the bed and you will sleep. Our clothes, as well as my gun, are in the ladies’ room." Skinner looked for the connecting door. "No Mr. Skinner. They are next door but there is no connecting door. I will signal for them when we are ready to leave. I’ve arranged everything. The maid will not bother us and as you can see, the phone has been disconnected. It too rests in the ladies’ room."
Skinner stared at him in utter awe. It was perfect. He held up his hands in surrender. "You win, Mr. Giles. But remember this. Paybacks are a bitch."
"I accept that. Now go to sleep."
Skinner laid there, the thin sheet covering his body, listening as Giles took his turn in the bathroom. He should wrap the sheet around himself and walk out, accepting the derision that would be heaped upon him when the locals saw who had managed to kidnap him. But he knew he couldn’t accept that. Besides, part of him wanted to know what could be so important that these three would resort to kidnapping.
He didn’t hear Giles finish. He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Next door, Tina paced as Zoey finished her shower. Her eyes were gritty from the overnight trip. She wasn’t sure how long it had been. They hadn’t reached Montgomery, which was a good three-hour drive from Mobile. She felt quite guilty about kidnapping poor Walter. "Oh Billy," she whispered. "What have I done?"
"What you need to do. Now don’t you fret. Just get to the cabin and sit tight. Maybe Mr. FBI can help and maybe he can’t. But the die is cast."
"Tina?"
Tina looked up to find Zoey staring at her with concern. "I’m fine. May I take my shower now?"
"Yes." Zoey looked like she was going to say something else but she just went to her bed. "Move over, TW." The dog looked up, groaned and rolled over to allow her room. Maggie, who had demanded to be let out, returned and scratched at the door. Zoey didn’t even think anything strange about that fact. She opened the door and let the cat in then climbed into bed. She really wasn’t sleepy. She’d slept quite well in the car, but she knew that Tina would want to sleep some more. She stretched out and accepted the fact that both pets would sleep with her. TW was Tina’s dog, but animals liked Zoey. Of course, that was because Zoey understood them. Not that she ever let on. Lands, they’d have her in a home for sure if they knew she could talk to animals.
They rose at three o’clock. Giles had evidently given the ladies a pre-arranged signal because Skinner’s suitcase was resting on his bed when he came out of the bathroom. Giles was already dressed and Skinner couldn’t help but marvel yet again at the man’s ability.
Once again behind the wheel, Skinner demanded, "Are we going to eat?"
"Oh yes," Zoey agreed. "We could go to the Magnolia House." She looked down at her pantsuit and sighed. "Of course, we aren’t really dressed for the Magnolia House. Perhaps…"
"Chick-Fil-A." Giles said.
"Excuse me?" Zoey gasped.
"Chick-Fil-A will be just fine," Tina said. She laid her head back, idly stroking TW behind the ears. She hadn’t slept well at all. The worry was beginning to weigh on her, not to mention what they were doing to poor Walter. She really needed to talk to Billy some more, but she knew that no one would understand. Billy had explained that to her early on. "Tina Girl, you’re the only one who can hear me. If you let on that I’m here, they’ll put you in the nut hut for sure." It had been easy at Tara. Cletus and the nurses just thought she was crazy anyway. But now, with the battle coming up, she had to make sure that no one thought she was crazy. She needed Walter’s help. Billy said so too.
They placed their orders and sat in the back of the lot, eating in silence. Tina finished first and sat staring out the window. "Could we listen to music, Mr. Skinner?"
Skinner turned on the auxiliary and turned on the radio. Static filled the car as the station he’d been listening to out of Memphis no longer reached them. He began to seek.
"That Earl had to die. Goodbye Earl."
"And Jeee..suus will…"
"…and ya’ll come down to Bobby Joe’s Used car…"
"The Lord is my Shep…"
"It ain't my call; It ain't my bitch…"
"Disgraceful," Zoey sniffed.
Skinner was about to turn off the radio when an all news station came on. "And there is still no word of the fate of two of Alabama’s more colorful grand ladies. Tina and Zoey Grayson, the widows of two of the three brothers who made Grayson Industries one of the largest concerns in the South, were kidnapped from their nursing home late last night. Mr. John Grayson, the last of the Grayson brothers, and President of Grayson Industries, assures stockholders that this blatant attempt by factions against the progress that he and his sons wish to make in the company will not be successful. In a statement issued early this morning, Mr. Grayson states and we quote: "Men living in the past, led by supposed friends of my late brothers, men who will stop at anything, have preyed upon the feelings of two old, senile women. A foreigner, supposedly my late brother’s friend, helped these men by luring my sisters-in-law to flee their refuge. Well! We will not allow this to go on. Even now I am seeking relief in the courts to have Tina and Zoey Grayson declared mentally incompetent. That should put a stick in the spokes of Benton Reilly’s plans." Giles reached to turn off the radio, but Skinner ignoring the threat of the gun trained on him, slapped the hand away. "Let me hear it!" he growled.
"Yes," Tina sighed. "As Billy used to say, ‘you have to know what kind of bear it is that you’re huntin.’"
"We reached Mr. Benton Reilly, CEO of Grayson Industries since the accident that killed the two Grayson brothers, at his offices in Atlanta. Mr. Reilly insisted that John Grayson’s accusations were false. ‘Utter nonsense. I’ve been unable to contact either Miss Zoey or Miss Tina in six months. This is just a ploy on Mr. John Grayson’s part because the ladies own controlling interest in the company.’
"Regardless," the newscaster continued, "state police in Alabama and Georgia are on the look out for Mr. Clayton Giles as well as the Missus Graysons. During our Noon Show we will delve further into the history of the Grayson family and their influence on two states, as well as the mysterious deaths of their husbands and how those deaths effected one of Georgia and Alabama’s biggest employers. Now, in national news."
Skinner turned off the radio and looked into the mirror at the two old women. He then looked at Giles. All he could see was stubborn determination in all three sets of eyes. Sighing he wadded of the remains of his meal and handed it to Giles. "Where to now. We need to talk."
Zoey looked at Tina who allowed momentary relief to flood her face. However, Walter wasn’t convinced yet. Intrigued, perhaps, but still she could see that he would have to be convinced.
"Interstate 85," Giles said.
The newscaster had raised more questions than he’d answered. Skinner drove in determined silence. The only sound besides the ambient noise of the smooth riding car was the wheezing snore of TW. The landscape, never really flat, became more rugged and hilly. By the time Giles indicated a turn off at a small town straddling the border between Georgia and Alabama, it was dark again.
"I’m not sure I can find the cabin in the dark," Giles sighed.
"I can." It was the first words since dinner that Zoey had spoken.
"You’ve been here?" Tina demanded. "Jimmy BROUGHT you there?" Shock and fury were evident in her voice.
"Don’t be a fool. That would have ruined his fun." Zoey’s voice was a mix of bitterness, smugness and deep sorrow. "I followed him out here once a long time ago. Lands! It was that time you and Billy were in Greece."
"Greece! But that was back in 1975! You weren’t forty yet. Why didn’t you divorce him?"
Zoey took a deep breath. Skinner waited for a long sorrowful explanation of old hurts and faint excuses. However all Zoey said was, "For better or worse. That’s what I said and that’s what I meant."
"Damn fool," Tina replied. But Skinner heard her resigned admiration.
"See that grocery up ahead. There’s a road just beyond it that goes up into the hills."
"We should stop for provisions," Giles said.
Skinner didn’t know whether to be miffed or amused when Giles firmly locked his wrist in the cuff again. "I suppose I need to pay for this too?"
"We will reimburse you, Mr. Skinner," Tina said as she climbed out of the back of the car. "Lord have mercy!" She stretched her back much as Giles had at the hotel earlier in the day. "No TW!" She pointed to the seat, indicating the dog was to stay. However, TW had other ideas. Skinner waited for him to tumble out of the car, probably to hurt himself He’d been surprised that neither the dog, nor the cat had fouled the car, though there was a definite odor of pets. He’d have to leave the windows open. But not tonight. He didn’t like the clouds that were forming in the west, blotting out the stars as they traveled closer. He peered through the windshield trying to gauge how far up they would have to go. The little town was nestled in a valley, with houses climbing the steep sides of the hills.
"TW, ya’ll stay with me," Zoey urged, showing no desire to leave the comfort of the large Cadillac or the comfort that the cat in her lap obviously gave her.
The dog looked back at Zoey for a moment, as if he could really understand her. His mighty chest heaved a sigh and he turned around and returned to rest his head on Zoey’s lap. Tina looked in at the dog before bestowing an odd look on her best friend. "It isn’t natural," she whispered.
"HA! At least they’re both alive."
"Zoey!"
"Come along, Miss Tina." Giles took her arm and led her to the door of the Piggly Wiggly, its bright lights blazing out from the door of the cinderblock building. Skinner leaned back and rested his head.
"You know that’s all lies, don’t you, Walter?" Zoey said.
"I don’t know that, no, Miss Zoey.
"Why you saw us! You know we walked away from that horrid place. And, make no mistake about it. It was horrible. I pray that you put a bullet in my brain before letting them return me there. It’s all my fault, you know. I was just so mad at Giles. When I broke my hip, I could’ve stayed at home, but Giles presume too much."
Skinner really didn’t want to know, but he took the bait. "What did he presume?"
"Why, that I would allow him to care for me so intimately. It wouldn’t be seemly, now would it? And when he professed..." her voice trailed off and when Skinner heard the mournful growl from TW, Skinner knew the dog sensed the old lady’s distress.
"Mr. Giles expressed feelings for you that you found distasteful?" Skinner asked gently.
"Distasteful? Lands, no. Just terribly, terribly inappropriate." Zoey sighed deeply. "Nobody understands about Jimmy and me. I know what Billy and Tina thought. But you see, I understood. At least I did after I followed him that one time. I understood what he gave up to be with me."
"Only he didn’t give it up, did he, Miss Zoey?" Skinner suspected what she was hiding. He looked at the dog and wondered where the hell the real Tennessee Williams or William Faulkner was when you needed him? He snorted at the thought of James Patterson or Stuart Woods trying to write about that kind of pain and passion.
As if the dog could read his mind, a single mighty bark filled the car. He rose and walked to the window, standing guard. Maggie hissed in aggravation, climbed off Zoey’s tap and stretched out in the back window.
"Oh dear, they are both put out with you, Mr. Skinner. You shouldn’t think such things. Animals are very sensitive to negative thoughts." Someone came out of the Piggly Wiggly and the harsh lights illuminated the sly grin on Zoey’s face. "Neither one of them can stand John Boy."
The handcuff rattled as he tried to rub both his temples. The pounding headache was growing to Mulder-induced proportions. He returned to watching the entrance of the I GA. "Does John Boy know about this retreat?"
"Lands no! I’m not surprised that Giles knows. He must have told Tina, though of course, she insists that Billy told her — last night."
"Ah. She talks to her husband."
Zoey sighed wearily. "Oh, bosh. She’s just an old woman like me, believing what she wants to believe. There’s not much left at this age. It isn’t fair you know. Billy and Jimmy were both in fine health. By now, Jimmy would’ve forgotten all that other nonsense." He heard the tears in her voice. "We would’ve had good years together, once all those unnatural desires died, once..." she gasped at what she was admitting. "Oh dear. You mustn’t say anything to Tina. She’d be quite shocked that I knew. She’d be furious that I never told her. You see," Zoey leaned forward and dropped her voice conspiratorially. However, before she could continue, Tina led Giles, who was pushing a cart full of sacks, out of the store.
Skinner wondered where Giles was going to put it all. Of course, the man didn’t risk asking for Skinner’s help. However, less than five minutes later there was a resounding thud from the trunk of the car and Giles climbed into the front seat and smugly announced. "Perfect fit."
‘‘Of course," Skinner said dryly.
The four of them sat in the car and stared at the cabin. "Oh dear," seemed to the best that any of them could offer. Skinner didn’t know whether to laugh or just start cursing. He glared over at Giles who looked thoroughly defeated.
"Are you sure this is the cabin?" Skinner finally managed to demand.
"Oh yes," Zoey said tearfully. "I suppose after ten years one should expect a bit of... of..."
Without regard to the gun, now resting in Giles’ lap, Skinner pushed open the car door and stood in front of the moonlit kudzu-covered house.
"Son of a bitch."
Giles stood behind him and while he normally wouldn’t abide by such coarse talk in front of Miss Zoey or Miss Tina, he didn’t have the heart to call Skinner on it. "Dear Lord. Now what?"
Skinner didn’t bother to glower or gloat. "We have to go back down that hill and find lodgings for tonight." He turned towards the car and wondered if he would ever get all the mud off of it. The lane up the mountain was little more than a rutted path, a deeply rutted path. It had taken him an hour to get up here.
Without much more warning that one fat drop on Skinner’s bald pate, the skies opened, drenching both men before they could open the car doors.
He’d sat in the car, miserably wet. Maggie the Cat had attempted to comfort him by sanding on the back of the seat and lick at his head. He’d gently picked her up and dropped her in back. Her "yowl," was easily translated into ‘fuck you!"
"Maggie!" Zoey gasped.
Skinner stared straight ahead. "We’ll never get down that hill."
"Walter?" Zoey whispered fearfully.
"Yes?"
"I truly hate to mention this. Truly I do."
He groaned, already knowing what was going to be said.
"Walter, I’m afraid, I really must go to the ladies room."
Clamping down the urge to suggest just where she could find the ladies — tree, he climbed back out of the car. After all, he was already wet.
He stood there in the rain and weighed his options. There was a barn at one end of the property. It too was covered in kudzu, but it was evident that the roof had long ago collapsed.
One hour later, after finding a rusted scythe, he managed to cut a swath through to the house. Even wearing his fishing glove to pull away the interwoven vines, he was cut, bleeding and bruised. "There damn well better be a sleeping princess inside," he muttered as he pulled away the last of the kudzu from the door. "I should assign Mulder to figure out what alien race dropped it here. This is right up his alley."
By the time that he broke one of the panes of glass in the window next to the door, the torrent had steadied off to just a drenching rain. He reached in, scratching his arm as he did, and freed the latch on the door.
Stepping inside, he stood and stared. "Oh, yeah. Mulder would love this place." Cobwebs hung from every surface, not that there were many. The furniture had all been covered with protective sheets. Someone had taken the time to board up the windows. There was surprisingly little damage, though if anyone had stepped inside this place in ten years, he’d be greatly surprised.
"Mr. Skinner?" He whirled around to find the three old people standing just inside the doorway. "I have to use the bathroom," Zoey insisted. "Right now."
Skinner sighed. "Miss Zoey, I really don’t know if..." But even as he said it, she went in search of the bathroom.
The dust was thick there too, and he doubted the plumbing worked. There was no water in the bowl. Turning the faucet didn’t produce so much as a banging of the pipes.
"Walter?" He heard the desperation in Zoey’s voice. Sighing he stepped into the bedroom. "I’m sorry," he said softly. "You’ll have to make do."
"I always do," she said, closing the door behind her.
He went in search of a bucket. Finding one under the sink, he went back outside and let the water cascading off the roof fill it. Returning to the bathroom he called out. "Don’t try and flush. I’ll fill the tank by hand."
"Oh dear."
He was rather surprised when the tank actually flushed. He’d expected that the rubber seals would have been rotten after all this time. "Thank god for small favors," he said as he re-entered the bedroom. There was a huge king four poster bed. The cobwebs created a curtain and almost hid the manacles that were attached to each post. He had little doubt as to how Jimmy Grayson used this cabin.
There were no sheets on the bed, but the mattress had been thoroughly protected by a heavy plastic mattress pad. "What the hell did she discover that day?" he whispered to himself. There was a sturdy wide chaise lounge. "Well, Miss Zoey, damn your sensibilities, but the three of you can all sleep in here."
"Yes, Walter," Zoey said softly from behind him. He turned to find her looking very contrite. Pity that he was no longer buying that particular act.
"Come on. Let’s go join the others."
At least Tina and Giles had been making the most of the time. They’d pulled off all the dust protectors, piling them in the corner next to the fireplace.
"Can we light a fire?" Zoey pleaded.
"No, Miss Zoey," Giles said firmly. "If no one has used that fireplace in ten years, lord only knows what creatures have built nests in there. We’ll need to do a thorough cleaning, but not tonight."
"I’m hungry," Tina said. "We bought soup and fresh bread and cheese and other things." She blushed a bright red and added. "Giles insisted upon buying a bottle of Jack Daniels. He said it was the least we could do."
Skinner stared at Giles in wonder. "How the hell did you know that’s what I drank?"
"Come, sir," Giles said. "You’re from Texas."
"Oh. Well I guess that explains everything."
"I did find a rain coat by the back door."
Skinner looked at his clothes and laughed sourly. Now why would I need a raincoat?"
"I did find another interesting feature, sir." Giles turn toward an opening in the living room wall."
Skinner wasn’t sure if he could reconcile polite servitude from the man who’d happily kidnapped him, but he figured that manners were engrained in the Englishman. He followed Giles into the kitchen. Here the dust was the worst. There’d been nothing to protect the stove, refrigerator or kitchen table.
"I will, of course, accept full responsibility for cleaning up in here," Giles said firmly. "I’m quite capable." He went to the refrigerator and pulled at a piece of paper held to the surface by a magnetic. "These are labeled the "Cottage Check List."
"Oh?"
"Yes. First, as you can see is "Turn on Generator."
"Makes sense. I don’t think Southern Power and Light comes this far up into the hills."
"Next is turn on water pump."
"Hmmmm. Is there another note near the end about turning off the water pump?"
"Yes and about draining the lines."
Skinner was impressed and, more importantly, hopeful. "Of course, we have no idea where the damned generator is."
"I’m sure that there will be a kudzu covered mound somewhere. We’ll find it tomorrow."
Skinner glared at him. "Tomorrow, if this damned rain ever stops, we’re getting those old ladies down the hill. We’ll find a hotel...then..."
"Then what, Walter?" Tina stood in the doorway, the gun that Giles had held on him for over three hundred miles hanging from her hand. Skinner transferred his glare to her. However, in a move that sealed his fate, she reached out the gun and handed it to him. "Then what?" she repeated.