Bailin' at the Honey Dew

"Here ya are, Mr. Hollander!  Unsweetened ice tea with extra lemon!" Franny set the glass down in front of Gariton. She smiled faintly, her eyes reflecting a sympathetic commiseration as to what he was going through.

Gariton saw the kindness in Franny's eyes.  He'd hadn't seen her much outside the Honey Dew, but what he knew of her she seemed like an exceptionally caring person.  It was a nice change from the many that seemed to look at him with suspicion, like his predicament confirmed their biases towards him.  'Damn no good Yankee!  What in the world had a pretty girl like Christie Delco ever seen in him, anyway? No wonder she took up with that Rodney Strickland!  He was clearly three times the man that puny Yankee would ever be!'  - at least that's what he thought was going through their heads.

But not Franny.  He sensed no such thoughts coming from her.  He wasn't sure he remembered to ask for extra lemons, but she must have brought them based on his prior orders.  He wanted to say something to her, but all that came out was, "Thank you."

"You want to place an order now, Mr. Hollander?  Let me just tell you, Grace made the chicken salad special herself just this morning, and it is extra good today."  Franny knew what turned her customer's heads, and that Gariton frequently ordered the chicken salad.

"Not this moment, Franny.  Maybe in just a little bit."  He didn't want to start eating until he knew why he was asked to come here.

"Sure thing, Mr. Hollander.  I'll check back with you in a little bit."  Franny left to go handle a nearby table, where Doc Stratton, the chiropractor, was having a late lunch with Larry Luck.  They both looked over at Gariton as if he was a heathen that needed to go to the inquisition.  Based on the recent news, probably most of Crowley thought he was in jail, halfway to being strung up.

He scrunched some Equal into his tea, squeezed a couple of the lemons mixed it up, and then took a healthy sip.  It felt real good going down, soothing and surprisingly effective at breaking some of his stress.  If everything tasted better, and all his senses were sharpened from just three days in the hoosegow, he could hardly imagine what things might be like after years.  He prayed he would never have to find out.

As he set his glass down, she came in.  There was the usual bright bounce in her step, and she certainly cut a sexy figure in her little sun dress, low cut and defiantly short given the somewhat crisp early February weather.  But despite her attitude and dress, this was not the same Christie.  She wore sunglasses, and when she sat down across from him and took them off, he could see the dark circles under her eyes.  No amount of makeup could cover up the stress she felt.

He looked at her and struggled to find some semblance of the woman he fell in love with.  Why did he not see that her wandering spirit would lead her to other men?  How could he not tell that was part of her character?

She began without prelude or introduction.  That was so much like her.  Get right to the right of it.  "I suppose you're wondering why I bothered to bail you out."

Gariton shrugged.  "I admit.  The thought did cross my mind, but then I gave up trying to figure it out.  I mean, I'm not really doing a good job of figuring out what you're thinking, am I?"

Franny came by and asked Christie what she might want to drink.  "Honey, you don't serve nothing I want."  Franny just nodded and turned away.  Gariton may have been imagining things, but he did not see the bright sympathy she was emanating earlier.  "Just bring me some water, sugar.  That will be fine."

"You want sugar water?" Franny asked, hiding her sarcasm with a serious look.

"Well, you do have a bit of a snap to you after all, don't you?  No.  Plain water is fine.  Don't even bother with the ice."

"Of course, Mrs. Hollander, right away", she said, stressing the Mrs. Hollander part.  Gariton noticed Franny turn her head as someone new came in, and she just started beaming, big and bright.  A boy came in, someone Gariton had seen before, but whose name he just couldn't recall.

"What's the name of the young man who just came in, Franny?" Gariton asked.  "You seem quite happy to see him."

Franny sputtered, "T-that's Adam Garnett.  I t-think he might be my, uh, b-boyfriend."

Young love, Gariton thought.  Enjoy it while it lasts, Franny.

After Franny left, Christie returned to their conversation.  "I know you don't think of me as a good wife.  I know it's difficult for me to fill that role.  But I do care for you, Gariton.  I don't want to see you hurt."

"That is sweet of you, dear.  But aren't you worried your setting loose your lover's killer?"

Christie snorted a giggle.  "Hell, I'm not stupid.  You're no killer, Gariton.  You didn't kill Rondy, any more than I did."

"Really, Christie?  It was your gun.  It had your fingerprints on it."  He stared at her, coldly, all his warmth towards her having fled after he saw her astraddle Rondy.

"Here I am giving you credit for not believing you could be the killer, and you can't return the same courtesy to me?  You have a lot of nerve."

"That's right.  I do.  How do know anymore what you're capable of or not?"

Franny brought Christie her water, and then asked if they were ready to order.  Christie refused anything, but Gariton took Franny's recommendation and ordered the chicken salad plate.  "Look, Gariton. Yes, I love men.  Lots of men.  I like to cheat.  I like to roam.  But that does not make me a killer."

Gariton saw the pain and hurt in her eyes.  He didn't recall ever seeing her so lost.  Well, except for hat time when those guys in college tried to rape her.  To this day, he didn't know what possessed to those big guys on, but he was glad he did.  Even with all the pain he was going through not, that is something he would never change. "I'm sorry, Christine.  I didn't mean that.  I know you wouldn't do that.  But that still leaves with a problem.  Somebody did, and we need to find out."

Christie got angry, her hands bunching into little fists.  "No, you don't, Gariton.  You don't need to do any such damn thing.  Let Sheriff Steel take care of that."

Gariton started to say something, but he thought better of it.  He would like to tell her that Steel was following some leads he gave him, and that his arrest was mostly a cover to get others to more freely talk to the Sheriff.  He didn't mind being out of jail, but the bail money Christie put up was a bit of a surprise in their planning.  It actually was going to be beneficial in that he could be here in town for the Sheriff to consult, instead of being dragged off to a Ware County jail.

"Look, Gariton.  I'm hiring you the best damn criminal lawyer in the state, a Donald Hedge from up Atlanta way.  All you have to do is let him take care of you, and you drop any investigation nonsense of your own.  You don't need to do anything.  You for damn sure don't need to help that Sheriff.  Just stick your nose out of everyone's business, and everything will be fine."

A light went on in Gariton's head.  "You know something, don't you?  I mean, yes, you didn't do it, and maybe you don't know who did it, but you know something, don't you?"

Christie grabbed his hand, and stared at him with a withering intensity.  "Leave it alone, Gariton.  I mean it.  Tell me what you want from me.  You want to stay married?  I can do that.  I can't promise to stay faithful, but I can still make you pretty damn happy, just like I did until you knew.  You want a divorce?  I can set you up with enough cash in the settlement so you'll never have to work again."

"What do you mean?  You have money, but not that kind of money.  Would Daddy Delco give you that kind of money?  Why?  I mean, I know he dotes on you, but why?  Why would he do that?  Unless..."

She squeezed his hand hard.  "Don't go there.  Don't you dare!"

He pulled his hand away from her.  "Don't touch me.  Don't touch me ever again."

He got up quickly.  He had had enough. Franny was bringing over his chicken salad.  He quickly dug out a twenty and handed it to Franny.  "I'm sorry, Franny.  I can't abide staying here a second longer.  Box it and refrigerate it for me, and bring to me as you close.  I'll be at the accounting firm.  And please, keep the change."

Gariton turned to leave, but Christie intercepted him.  "Please, Gariton.  I don't want to see you hurt."

"And keep your Atlanta lawyer too."

"Gariton, don't be stupid.  There isn't anyone around here who can help you."

"I'll be fine.  I'm already talking to Ramona Adams."

That threw off Christie, but not enough to let Gariton go.  "The black lady?  What are you, crazy?  She's just a legal secretary!"

"She's just shy of being a paralegal, and besides, she's damn smart, one of the smartest people I know."  He pulled away again, and she followed him out.

"Please, Gariton," she pleaded. "I'm scared.  I don't want to see myself hurt, either."

And there it was.  The truth of it.  So many were at risk, until somebody could put a stop to it.  Until somebody had the stones to call them out.  And it was just him; he didn't know he could do it. 

He was afraid for himself.  He was afraid for Christie.  But he did not want to live in fear.  And with the secret help of Sheriff Steel, and the senior partner of Cooper & Strickland, Thomas Cooper, maybe, just maybe, they could come out of this all right.