Page 2 of Bad to the Bone
Chapter Two
MEETINGSam for breakfast had become a morning routine since she joined the Freeland police force. Today, as Alex walked from Morrison Hardware to the Danish Coffee Pot, he scanned the street in both directions but didn’t see any sign of the motorcycle from yesterday afternoon. He wasn’t sure which emotion was stronger, disappointment or relief.
Sam was already seated at their usual booth when he entered the diner. As always, the smells of cinnamon and bacon greeted him, along with a wave and a cheery smile from Brigit, the restaurant’s owner. A cup of coffee sat on the table waiting for him as he slid into the blue vinyl bench seat across from Sam.
“I thought you might need some morning courage,” Sam said. “You looked pretty stunned yesterday when I left.”
Alex took a grateful sip of the strong black brew. He hadn’t slept well the night before as he grappled with eleven-year-old memories. “Surprised, not stunned. I’d given u—I hadn’t expected to see him back in town again, that’s all.”
Brigit bustled over to take their orders—Danish fruit pancakes for Sam and one of the restaurant’s signature cinnamon rolls for Alex.
“Wonder what brought him back now.” Sam smiled a thanks to Brigit for topping off her coffee cup, pausing until the older woman had moved on to the next table. “He didn’t even come home when Old Man Jennings died.”
“I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t consider Freeland ‘home’ anymore,” Alex said. “His relationship with his father was always pretty strained after his mother passed away.” Which was part of what had drawn Ricky Lee and Alex together, but Alex tried to push those memories away, with as little success as the night before.
“Yeah, having the town drunk for a father couldn’t have been easy. I pulled Billy Joe in more than a time or two for public intoxication or DUI myself before he passed.”
“Not to mention being half Comanche, living on the wrong side of town, losing his mother when he was barely thirteen, and coming out as gay his freshman year of high school. You remember what it was like for him, Sam. High school was a tough enough time even if you were part of the ‘popular’ crowd. Ricky Lee was looked down on and bullied for things he had no control over.”
“You always stood up for him, Alex. That’s something I’ve always admired you for.”
Fortunately Brigit arrived at that moment with a tray piled with food, sparing Alex from Sam’s scrutiny as guilt washed through him. He’d failed to stand up for Ricky Lee when it counted most, and he’d regretted it all the years since. By the time Sam looked up from the plates of thin, crisp-edged pancakes, hash browns, and bacon arranged in front of her, Alex had his expression under control. He hoped.
“Besides, Ricky Lee got into plenty of trouble on his own,” Sam said after taking the first bite of her berry-topped pancakes. “Chief Cowart had me pull up his juvenile records, and he must have been brought in half a dozen times at least.”
“And never convicted of anything,” Alex protested. In his opinion, Chief Cowart had made up his mind that Ricky Lee was as no-good as his father and taken every opportunity to try to prove it. “He never started any of the fights at school. He had the right to defend himself.”
“Maybe, but what about the theft charges? There was the stolen bicycle—”
“Which was complete bullshit. I was with him the night he found it. He’d been over for dinner, and then we were going to walk to the library.” It was sophomore year, and neither of them had a driver’s license yet. Alex had a bike, but he hadn’t wanted to make Ricky Lee feel bad by riding it when Ricky Lee didn’t. “Odell Tillman had just gotten that new BMX bike for his birthday, and the old one was out at the curb next to their trash can. There was nothing wrong with it except for a few dings in the fenders.” Alex had been the one to suggest to Ricky Lee that he take it; Ricky Lee hadn’t wanted to at first, but Alex had convinced him it would make it easier to get around together if they both had bikes. “It was obviously meant to be picked up as trash. Odell didn’t report it stolen until he saw Ricky Lee riding it.” The charges had been dropped once Alex told the police what happened, but Ricky Lee had never ridden the bike again.
Sam raised an eyebrow and picked up a piece of bacon. “And stealing from the liquor store?”
Alex sighed. “Old Man Jennings used to make Ricky Lee buy him beer when he ran out. Yeah, he wasn’t old enough to buy it legally, but you know as well as I do that Mr. Tyner at the Liquor Mart never checked IDs. Ricky Lee paid for the beer, but Chief Cowart was coming in just as Ricky Lee was leaving. Of course Tyner wouldn’t admit to selling to a minor, so he claimed Ricky Lee had stolen it.” Alex’s head was starting to ache, and he took a sip of his coffee, hoping to forestall a migraine. “It was pure luck that Ricky Lee remembered the twenty he’d used to pay for the beer had some kind of red stamp on it. When Cowart had Tyner open the register, it was right there on top.”
“Meaning Ricky Lee faced a misdemeanor charge of possession of alcohol rather than petit larceny.”
“And luckily the Comanche County Juvenile Bureau decided not to press charges against a first-time offender, especially after visiting Ricky Lee’s home situation.”
Sam sighed. “His luck ran out senior year, though.”
The six-inch high pastry in front of Alex, swirled through with cinnamon and topped with a waterfall of creamy icing, suddenly made his stomach roil.
“I never thought it was fair that he got expelled and sent to the alternative education program in Lawton, and Odell didn’t even get a slap on the wrist,” Sam said. “It takes two people to make a fight, and Odell was twice the size of Ricky Lee.”
Not to mention that Odell had started it—but no one knew that for sure but the three of them who were there. “Ricky Lee wasn’t an offensive end on the football team favored to win the state title in our division,” Alex said, not even trying to mask the bitterness in his voice.
“Only because you were the fastest running back in the state. You won us that title, not Odell.”
“Yeah, well, no one wanted to take a chance on that, did they?” He pushed the untouched cinnamon roll toward Sam. “You want this? I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Have Brigit pack it to go and take it with you,” Sam said. “You may not want it now, but knowing you, you won’t stop for lunch unless Alanna makes you.” She scraped the last of the fruit topping from her plate. “I wonder how Ricky Lee got from Lawton to Oregon.”
“Maybe looking for someplace a bit more accepting.” Ricky Lee had been wearing a Rainbow Riders jacket when he was pulled over. Apparently he was still as out and proud as he’d been in high school. Alex hoped he wasn’t facing as much backlash now, wherever he was living.
“He seems to be doing all right for himself, judging by the bike he was riding.” Sam raised a hand for Brigit to refill their coffee cups.
Alex hadn’t paid much attention to the bike beyond the facts that it was big, black, and loud. He’d been focused on the lean contours of its rider. Though Ricky Lee’d had a passenger behind him, making Alex wonder who the second rider was. Before he could ask, Sam continued.
