Gunpowder Lips

“Are you joking, Luther?”

His wife’s irritated voice caused him to hide a flinch of his own waning patience. “Of course I’m not.” When did he ever joke with her?

“I do not believe that you’re serious. This is the only hotel this place has?”

Luther tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the steering wheel of their rented car, examining the Muddy Waters Inn. It was the same it had been when he was a kid: run down and apparently built with the theme of a dirty bar. Hailey looked like she was going to have an absolute fit, her arms crossed tightly and her lips drawn into a thin line. They sat in silence while Luther waited for her to react somehow, hopefully by getting out of the car and stopping all the complaining she’d been doing since they left the airport.

He wasn’t delusional about his hometown, he knew it was a hunk of junk. The roads were old and cracked with fading yellow paint, and there were few houses that didn’t look abandoned. However the dilapidated town of Arbor did have quite a healthy population, the poorly built and chipping houses stretching far out into the countryside. There were a few farmers, and then there were the people who lived in the wood back behind that. True mountaineers, and mostly closed off from the rest of the town.

“Do they have indoor plumbing?”

Swallowing the fact that she definitely meant that as an insult, Luther nodded. “It’s nice on the inside. The owner Muddy Bill keeps it clean in case anybody out of town ever stays…Not that it’s likely.”

“Muddy Bill? That’s the name of a person?” Hailey was incredulous.

“Oh, yeah, wait ’till you meet his brother Sasquatch Jody.” with that Luther climbed out of the car and shut the door, moving for the trunk that held their luggage.

Hailey followed suit with a disapproving look, watching where she stepped even in the parking lot. Luther handed her the heavier suitcase, which was hers, and then slammed the trunk shut. He told her to wait there and he’d go check in. The door to the main office opened with a tinny jingle, and there was a snort as heavy footsteps came from a back room. Luther grinned as Muddy Bill waddled out, wiping his hands on a rag that was already saturated with oil.

“Holy shit on a shingle! Luther Dubose! They told me you was comin’ but I said they was full of it!”

Luther reluctantly shook hands with Muddy then wiped his palm on the back of his jeans. “Yep, here I am. I think Brody already called to talk to you about a room?”

“He shore did, said you and yer missus are gonna be here fer a while. I got room 4 all fancied up fer ya.” Muddy leaned across the counter to wink with a red-rimmed eye. “Brody says yer lady is a real high-class broad. I stuck a bar a scented soap in the bathroom. Don’t confuse it with the rat poison, now.”

Luther managed to hide the laughter that warranted, and only thanked Muddy Bill and took the key before going back out to find Hailey. She was in the exact spot he’d left her, staring around suspiciously and fanning her neck with the map she’d been holding in the car.

“Room 4.” he called, making her jump a little.

He stuck the key in the door knob and went inside, greeted by the smell of cigarettes and mold. Hailey seemed to smell it too when she came in, one hand covering her nose and mouth. Luther smirked as he threw his suitcase on the queen-sized bed then went into the bathroom. It was relatively clean as Bill had promised, and there was an unopened bar of soap next to a pile of rat poison on top of the toilet. Luther snorted as Hailey came in behind him.

“This is absolutely disgusting.”

“If you like we can go buy some cleaning supplies.”

Hailey huffed. “I don’t know if they have anything strong enough. Besides, I don’t want to touch anything. Just hurry up and find us somewhere inhabitable to live, Luther.”

She left him alone in the bathroom again and Luther let his shoulders sag a little. He felt a hell of a lot older than thirty-two when she nagged on him constantly. Sometimes he found himself remembering their wedding day and missing that woman. He certainly hadn’t married the bitter woman in the next room.

In the slightly grimy and rusted mirror Luther looked at himself, rubbing a large hand over his chin. He hadn’t found the time to shave before their flight, so the stubble there was sharper than he liked it. His dark blue eyes were tired, probably from the jetlag, he reasoned. Pulling off his hat, Luther ruffled his hair a little to stop it from settling flat to his head. That was the only thing that could get irritating about that hat, but Luther didn’t mind. When he wore it he felt…whole.

A vibration started in his back pocket and made him jump a bit, then scowl as he pulled out his cell and answered it. “Luther Dubose.”

“Hey, Luther. It’s Fred Jenson. Remember me?”

“’Course I do, Fred.” Luther remembered Fred because they’d all been drunk one night and Fred decided it would be hilarious to light a donkey’s tail on fire. It kicked him in the face and broke his jaw, and by the sound of it he still had a bit of trouble speaking normally.

“Good to talk to ya. Brody asked me to call you and see if you’d mind coming down to the station this afternoon, but he said it’s alright if you do mind. I think he’s scared of ya.” chuckled Fred.

Smirking, Luther leaned his shoulder on the sticky wall of the bathroom. “I did threaten him the last time we spoke. Is he around?”

“Yeah, but he ain’t exactly in the vicinity. So ya gonna come or what?”

Luther sighed. “I guess I am. Give me five minutes.”

“See ya, Luther.”

With that Luther shoved his phone back into his pocket, walking out of the bathroom and finding Hailey perched on the very edge of the bed with her arms and legs tightly crossed. Luther moved past her to his bag, pulling out a clean black t-shirt to replace his rather sweaty blue button-down.

“I’m going into the station. I’ll try to be back quick.”

She made a noise of indignation. “What am I supposed to do here by myself?”

“If I recall correctly you spent a lot of time charging up that fancy laptop of yours.” Luther said over his shoulder as he shoved his gun into the back of his belt. He’d never been one for holsters. “Get on it and complain about your husband on some blog or whatever it is women do on the internet.”

Before his wife could make a suitably venomous reply Luther shut the door, straightening the wide brim of his hat as he approached the rental car. It was small, white and rusted at the bottom, and Luther missed his truck already. That was the only thing he’d miss about Idaho really, his truck. It had gotten him out of more than one sticky situation.

Putting away his thoughts of regret, Luther focused on the familiar drive. Much of his youth was spent in and out of the police station, and he wondered if it still had that pungent odor of coffee and sweat. Admittedly he’d been surprised when he heard Brody and Fred were both enrolling in police academy as well as him, but it wasn’t a huge shocker. A small town like Arbor needed protection, and they were the kind to think it was up to them. Though when they were teenagers Arbor probably needed just as much protection from them as it did anyone else.

The station was old grayish brick and extremely square with a matching parking lot, vines creeping up the side closest to where Luther parked. He knew his way around, finding that the place was still organized much like it had been when he was sixteen. However instead of the angry ancient woman sitting at the front desk from those days, it was a middle-aged plump lady with her hair in a messy bun and glasses dangling from a gold chain around her neck.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Lancaster.” Luther tipped his hat to her, smirking when she looked up in surprise.

After putting her glasses on she beamed. “Hello, Luther! My, you’ve certainly grown up. I half expected you to come in here a gangly fourteen-year-old, shamefaced because you got caught out after curfew.”

“Been a few years since then, ma’am.” he nodded at her. “Could you point me to Fred?”

“He’s right through there, you’ll see him…or rather his bald spot.”

Luther chuckled as he followed her short finger, but indeed he could see a large shiny patch of skin at the crown of a square head that surely belonged to Fred, surrounded by thinning blonde hair.

“You look about sixty years old, Fred.”

The man turned sharply in his chair to see Luther, slowly grinning. “Speak of the devil. I was just telling Valerie you probably weren’t gonna show up.”

Then Luther noticed the woman sitting at a desk near the window, black hair cut into a prim bob and face a little older, but definitely Valerie Erickson. She shook her head, not looking up as she sifted through a large stack of papers. “And I said that he would because Luther was always very prompt, if it was his only redeeming quality.”

Luther smirked. Val had always been able to hold her own, surrounded by older brothers and with mostly boys for friends. “Good to see you too, Val. The years have been much kinder to you than Fred.”

Finally she turned her face up to smile at him. “Thanks, Luther. You don’t look bad yourself.”

“Alright, alright.” Fred stood up and adjusted his pants around his belly, obviously fed up at getting no compliments himself. “Brody left you the Fowler file as well as a few other things. Wasn’t really listening.”

“Good to know you haven’t changed much, Fred. Where are they?”

Fred handed him the five or so folders, Luther grimacing at how heavy they were. The phone rang and Fred sat down at his desk to answer it, by the sound of his conversation talking to an irritated wife. Valerie came over to Luther, who was browsing the arrest record Keith Fowler had accumulated over the years.

“We’re a little short on space, but I’m willing to share my desk if you need more room.” she said, standing next to him to look over his shoulder. “You remember Keith, don’t you?”

Luther nodded pensively. “Kind of a bulky kid…Got a kick out of beating up his mother and his sisters.”

“And now his fiancé.” Valerie pointed a red-nailed finger at the words ‘domestic battery’ dated only a few years before. “Melody Caldwell is our main concern about him getting out.”

Luther felt like he was going to choke, and he could feel his face go a bit red. “Melody? He got engaged to Melody?”

“Mm hm.” the lawyer sounded disapproving. “I don’t think she knew what she was getting into, but her dad was pressuring her to say yes and Keith just kept asking…I called her the other day and she seems alright, though she’s decided she won’t have anything to do with him when he gets out, probably since her dad died. Gave the ring to his brother and everything.”

Luther whistled under his breath, managing to quell some of his shock. “That won’t settle well with Keith. I can see why you’re worried.”

“In fact, that’s why I asked Brody to call you in.” she rolled her eyes when Luther gave her a scathing look. “I’m not afraid of you, Luther, so don’t even try it. I want you to go and talk to her, try and get her to apply for protection. From what I gathered she thinks she’s going to be fine, but I’m not so sure.”

“Why me?” Luther asked immediately, stomach tightening a bit with nerves.

“Brody and Fred tried, but she thinks they’re idiots.” Valerie paused to cover a laugh so Fred wouldn’t hear their conversation. “And she doesn’t know the other guys here well enough to trust them. I think she’ll listen to reason when it’s coming from you.”

Scratching the back of his head, Luther scowled. “I suppose I can’t say no to you unless I want my life to be hell.”

“You suppose correctly.” she took the files from his hands with a polite smile. “Thanks, Luther. Don’t bother coming back in after you talk to her, just call me from your hotel. Here’s my number.”

Valerie neatly plucked a card from the pocket of her blazer, placing it in Luther’s still open palm and then heading back for her desk. Luther glared at her for a moment before walking with subdued anger for the door, tipping his hat to Mrs. Lancaster again on the way. Valerie had been one of the girls he could put up with when he was a kid, and it seemed she was still as evil-tempered as she’d been then.

Melody on the other hand…well, that was an entirely different story.