Page 68 of Small Town Hunter

“Hello? Crash, is that you?”

He must have got a phone somewhere to call me and let me know it’s alright.

But it’s a woman’s voice that answers in surprise, “You’re not Crash.”

“Um, this is Crash’s phone,” I say. In a very different voice. Could this be his wife? What will I say?

“You must be the wife,” the woman sighs.

“This is Trina. Hisfriend.”

“Wait. Hold on a minute,” the woman says, suddenly screaming in joy. “Hold on! You mean, Trina Whiteleaf?”

The phone is frozen to my ear. I don’t say anything.

“AHAHA!I thought it was a rumor. Everybody said you ran off with some tall-walkin’ man from Virginia with a nice butt. There’s only one man I know that fits that description, and it’s the one who gave me this number.”

I’m speechless. The woman on the other end is definitely not. “Are you the same bitch that grew those pumpkins? Girl everyone is talking about you,” she chuckles.

“They were Turk’s Turban Squashes,” I say tightly. “And I don’t know who you’re calling a bitch but it can’t be me.”

“Oh my God! This is just too funny.”

“So…you’re from Tippalonga?”

“Of course. Trina Whiteleaf. Who would have thought you’d bounce from your own wedding and run off with a hunk like that.” She suddenly inhales. “Oh, I get it. He told me he was married…Ahhhh! Did you skip your own wedding tomarry Crash?”

“No! That’s not true at all!”

“I don’t believe this. So how did you meet him? Was it online?”

“I–”

“Which app was it? FuckFriend? SugarMeDaddy? Beesting?”

“Excuse me, I don’t understand a word you are saying. App? You mean like– on the phone?”

“Oh my God. Look, you have got good taste, babygirl. Crash is probably the best looking man to ever blow down our stretch, and you can take that from me.”

“Who in the world is this?” I demand, irritated.

“This is Jada. Crash’s friend,” the woman says, putting an emphasis onfriend.

Something clicks in my mind. “Jada Gambino?”

“Yes, the one and only,” Jada confirms with another annoying laugh.

What does this tramp want with Crash?

“Miss Gambino, you might want to know that Crash—”

Crash is what? Taken? By who? Me?

“Jada, girl. Just call me Jada,” says Jada. Her voice unexpectedly gets down to business as she says, “Look, if Crash isn’t there can you give him a message? Tell him that yesterday they arrested the redheaded fella he was looking for.”

“Um,” I say. “Okay.”

“I heard the man got in a fight with some racist biker guys. Defending his girl or something. They have him down at the jailhouse, okay?”

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