Richard N. Côté

The Redneck Riviera


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Dolly thought, we were about to have a romantic lunch and get a little drunk on the champagne. I was going to lay out in the sun. You were going to offer to put some suntan lotion on me. I was going to unsnap the top of my bikini. You were going to rub the oil all over my back. I was going to get horny and roll over. You were going to see proof of how aroused I was. Then you were going to nibble me all over, slip off the bottom of my bikini, nibble away some more, and then screw me silly. Then I was going to roll you over on your back and return the favor.

      Dolly gave Ron a noncommittal smile. But those two stupid cell phone conversations with other women in the middle of our romantic rendezvous just torpedoed your love boat, she thought. I hope you enjoyed that fancy cocktail I made for you, Ron, because it’s as close to sex on the beach you’re going to get today. For the rest of this afternoon, all you’re going to get is smiles, polite conversation, and plenty of time to fantasize about what you were soooooo close to having all afternoon: me minus my bathing suit.

      10. Voices From the Past

      Captain Willie’s Restaurant

      The Tuesday night crowd was fairly brisk, but not as heavy as the weekend crush. Ron hadn’t been thrilled with the rest of their weekend afternoon together. “Lack-a-nookie is the driving force of the universe,” Dolly recalled as she delivered an order. She had once heard Chrissie say to one of her girlfriends, “Men will do anything to get a little.”

      “What happened, Dolly?” Ron had asked the next time they saw each other. “We’d been having such a good time all morning and then...nothing.”

      “Do you ever take your ear off that damn cell phone?” she said. “And do you ever get calls from men – or just women?”

      “Yeah, you’re right,” Ron admitted. “Sometimes it seems like I don’t know how to relax anymore. But don’t worry – those were just clients or the wives of clients. Men don’t care about the details that go into choosing a condo. They leave that to the women. That’s why I get so many calls from women.”

      Dolly wasn’t sure that the answer really addressed the question, but she was mollified and grateful that he’d at least taken the time to explain. Most of her old boyfriends wouldn't have bothered.

      “The next time we go out, can you turn that damn thing off?” she asked in a warm but mildly sarcastic voice. “It kinda throws cold water on things, if you catch my drift.”

      One look into her big blue eyes and Ron caught her drift quickly. “I won’t even bring it with me,” he said and wrapped his arms around her. In return, he got a small, but affectionate kiss. She meant it to be a preview of coming events. It worked like a charm.

      “How about we run down to Savannah for the weekend? I know a beautiful little Victorian bed-and-breakfast place. We can take a carriage tour, have dinner on the waterfront, catch a little jazz. What do you say?”

      “Hey, fella, I have to work for a living, remember?” she said. “And I work almost every weekend.”

      “Aw, come on. See what you can do.”

      “OK,” she replied. “I’ll try to get someone to cover for me. I'm always doing it for the other girls.”

      He kissed her. “Gotta run. I’ll call you.”

      The cars were starting to fill Captain Willie’s parking lot, and the staff was bustling when Ruthie called Dolly to the phone. The look in her eye put Dolly a little on edge. “For you, Honey,” Ruthie said, and quickly walked away.

      “This is Dolly Devereaux,” she said.

      “Dolly – er, Ms. Devereaux – this is Detective Capt. Steven Hunt of the Myrtle Beach Police Department. We need you to come to the station. Your daughter is under arrest for possession of a controlled substance.”

      “What?” Dolly screamed. “What are you talking about, Steve? April’s only seventeen. She’s at school.”

      “I’m sorry, Dolly,” said her former high school boyfriend, now head of the vice and narcotics division of the police department. “Today was a staff development day. Teachers only. The kids didn’t have to go to school. April was arrested on the beach behind the Pavilion with a group of known drug users. She had what we think is crystal methamphetamine and some other drugs in her purse. They’re testing them now. She was high when they busted her, and she’s coming down fast from whatever she’s on. We need you to get over here now.”

      Dolly mumbled something and placed the receiver back on the hook. Grabbing her purse from behind the counter, she ran for the side door, forgetting to even remove her apron.

      11. Cranking Down

      Myrtle Beach Police Headquarters

      “Bastard!” April was angry, afraid, defiant, and hungry. She was also coming down fast from a twelve-hour high that had started the night before, tweaking ice – smoking crystal methamphetamine – and using Ecstasy with C.B. Her heart pounded. The green, reinforced-concrete walls seemed to be closing in on her.

      “Why didn’t you call my father? My mother is going to kill me!” she yelled at the bored jailer, who walked past the holding cell, ignoring her and her friends.

      “I want to talk to my father. I want to get out of here.”

      Her words fell on deaf ears. Few people who saw the inside of a holding cell didn’t want to get out. April wrapped her arms around herself as another wave of hot flashes and stomach cramps raced through her slender body. As she looked around the cell at her Skinhead friends, April saw that they were looking and feeling as bad as she was.

      Suzi Vetter looked pale as she swayed back and forth beside her on the metal cot, humming random chords from a series of half-remembered songs. Jimmy “Skank” Mullins, who had been kicked off the football team for missing practice once too often, huddled on the floor, depressed. The blood pounded in his veins; his shaking arms were wrapped around his knobby knees; his forehead rested on his firmly clenched hands. Even the steel-toed, ten-eyed Doc Marten boots couldn’t keep his feet from shaking. Near the back wall, Wendy Hickson paced back and forth in the cell, constantly looking over her shoulder in paranoia for pursuers who never appeared.

      In a conference room near the cell, Detective Capt. Steven Hunt held Dolly’s hand as he relayed the information he’d been given by the arresting officers.

      “She had three individually bagged joints of marijuana, an eight-ball of crystal meth and a dozen Ecstasy pills in her purse, Dolly. Those are retail quantities. It looks like she may have been dealing. The other kids had smaller quantities of pot or meth. They’ve been charged with simple possession. That’s a misdemeanor. April will probably be charged with possession of drugs with intent to distribute. That’s a felony. Even though she's still a minor, she’s in serious trouble.”

      Dolly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had been worried that April might be experimenting with drugs, and she was planning to have a big talk with her about it. But April was staying with her father, and Dolly was so busy. She knew that was no excuse, and she shouldn’t have put it off for so long, but she had no idea that April was involved in anything like this. When Dolly was in high school, “drugs” meant a little bit of pot and, at the very worst, a couple of hits of acid. Not that she was justifying those things, but crystal meth? Ecstasy? And dealing drugs? April? She was too smart for that.

      “Was she with C.B. Correlli?”

      “Yes, she was. Five of them were arrested behind the Pavilion. A patrolman saw one of them smoking what looked like a drug pipe. They dropped the pipe and ran, but the patrolman called for backup, and they caught the five of them. A search revealed that four of them were carrying drugs or drug paraphernalia. They were arrested for possession of controlled substances. Four – including April – tested positive for methamphetamines. Correlli had no drugs on him and wasn’t seen smoking. We had no evidence, so we had