Page 28 of Bad to the Bone
Embarrassed at the realization that he’d been judging Ricky Lee as surely as the rest of the citizens of Freeland had, Alex forced a smile. “I’ll try. Just call me on it if I do it again.” He started the truck, and they drove the short distance to Tillman’s in silence.
The Tillman Motors lot took up a full square block to the south of the library. A huge American flag rippled over a marquee advertising several different brands of US automobiles. Dozens of new cars flanked each side of the showroom, which stood in front of a second building for service and repairs. Used cars filled the back half of the lot. Near the street, several new cars sat elevated on ramps, a pair of twenty-foot-tall air dancers waved their arms on either side of the showroom doors, and the windows were plastered with signs proclaiming “We’ll Pay the Sales Tax!!”
Alex pulled into a customer parking space and killed the engine. Before they had closed the doors of the truck, a salesman approached them wearing a huge grin.
“Welcome to Tillman Motors!” Alex recognized him as Matt Skerring, who’d shown up a time or two at the Habitat for Humanity build earlier in the year. “Hey, Alex! Good to see you again. You finally looking to pick up a new vehicle?”
“Not today, Matt. My friend here needs to rent a car.”
Matt turned his smile on Ricky Lee. “Well, I’m sure we can arrange something for—”
“Skerring!” a voice bellowed from behind them, and Odell Tillman stormed out of the showroom. “Well, if it isn’t Alex Morrison,” he drawled as he drew nearer. “I thought I recognized your truck on my lot. Come to concede defeat, have you?”
“I’ve come to rent a car.” Ricky Lee stepped forward. “I heard you do that here.”
“Still hanging out with this homo, Morrison?” Odell sneered. “You need to be careful. People are going to start wondering about you too.” He turned back to Ricky Lee. “You must have heard wrong. We don’t have any cars to rent.” Matt began to speak, but Odell silenced him with a glare. “No, there’s nothing available.”For youhung unspoken in the air.
“What the hell, Odell?” Alex waved an arm. “You’ve got a lot full of cars. At least let him rent one of your repair loaners.”
“You just don’t get it, do you, Morrison? Okay, let me spell it out—I. Will. Not. Rent. A. Car. To. A. Fag.”
Alex started forward, but Ricky Lee held him back with a hand on his arm.
“Yeah, go ahead and hide behind the queer, Morrison,” Odell said scornfully. “Everyone always thought you were such a big deal in high school. The only reason you scored so many touchdowns was because the offensive line was always there to save your ass. You saw pretty quick what would happen if we weren’t there, didn’t you?”
“You were a talentless bully whose only asset was his size, Odell, and it looks like that hasn’t changed.” Ricky Lee paused as an upscale SUV pulled in to the front of the dealership and parked. A middle-aged woman got out of the driver’s seat and offered the key fob back to Matt Skerring.
“How did you like the Lincoln, Mrs. Whiting?” he asked after glancing anxiously at Odell.
“It’s a very nice car, but I’m afraid it’s a little more than I planned to spend.”
Ricky Lee gave her a smile Alex found much more charming than Matt’s artificial one. “Are you sure you don’t want it, ma’am?” he asked. “After all, they’ll pay the sales tax.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure. I think I’ll look around for a nice Chevy instead.”
“In that case, I’ll take it.” Ricky Lee snagged the fob from Matt’s palm with one hand, then pulled out his cell phone and hit a button with the other. “Hello, Crae? Listen, I need you to arrange a wire transfer for”—he leaned forward to read the list price from the SUV’s window sticker—“to Tillman Motors.” He listened as Crae said something before replying, “I’m buying you a car. The least you can do is show a little gratitude.” He disconnected the call and slid the phone back into his jeans pocket. “I hope you make a nice commission on this, Matt. Odell, I wish I could say it was a pleasure doing business with you.” Before Alex realized what was happening, Ricky Lee slid into the Lincoln’s driver’s seat, shut the door behind him, and peeled rubber out of the lot.
Odell looked as if he might burst a blood vessel any minute. “Skerring! Don’t just stand there, you idiot! Call the police!”
Matt seemed to be stunned by what had just happened. “But, Mr. Tillman….”
Cursing, Odell pulled out his own cell phone and dialed 911. “This is Odell Tillman at Tillman Motors. I need to report a stolen vehicle.”
Torn between horror and hilarity, Alex ran for his truck and sped out of the lot himself, hoping to catch up with Ricky Lee before the police did. He’d gone less than a mile when he spotted a patrol car, lights flashing, parked behind the Lincoln at the side of the street. Fortunately, when he got close enough to pull in behind them, he saw Sam motion for Ricky Lee to step out of the SUV. He slammed the truck into Park and rushed out toward Sam.
“I thought I told you boys to stay out of trouble. What the hell is going on? I have dispatch telling me Ricky Lee stole this car from Tillman Motors.”
“He didn’t really steal it, Sam,” Alex said. “He has Crae wire transferring a payment.”
“I probably should have tried to bargain the price down, but after all, they did pay the sales tax.” Ricky Lee’s phone chimed, and he glanced down at the text message. “Crae just verified the wire transfer has gone through.”
Sam shook her head. “Okay, big spender. How about you save us all a lot of trouble and follow me back to fill out a sales contract before Odell tries to have you thrown into jail?”
