to’ve killed yourself and your wife in that expensive car. Y’all okay, man?”
“Yeah, we were both lucky. I’m stove up some, but with a little physical therapy, I’ll be okay.” He took a sip of Coke. “How you doin’?”
“Fine. Fine. But I gotta say if what they reported is anything like accurate, you got a knee injury that needs more than a little physical therapy. You gotta be careful underestimating the damage and what it takes to overcome it, you know what I mean?”
Buck held the Coke can against his forehead. Cold seemed to ease the ache. “That’s why I’m calling, Ty. I hear you’re one of the best physical therapists in the South.”
Tyrone gave a snort and then chuckled low. “I don’t know about that, but I’m enjoying regular employment here in Memphis.”
“How would you like to spend the next, say six months working in a place outfitted with the best state-of-the-art equipment, be your own boss, right in your own hometown?”
“That would be Tallulah, right?”
“Right.”
“I would say it would cost a nice chunk of change and where would it come from?”
“Here’s what I was thinking, Ty. I’ve chartered a plane and I’ll be flying in to Tallulah in a few days. I need a PT and you’re the best. The setup will be wherever I’m staying in Tallulah, which is a little up in the air at the moment. But after you check me out, you’ll have an idea what kind of equipment and all the other bells and whistles I’ll need for therapy. Are you with me so far?”
“I guess…so far.”
“We could meet, talk, work out the details. I’d leave it to you to set the schedule and start the torture.”
“What time frame we talking here?”
“I need to start right away. And I’d like to hire you exclusively for as long as it takes, Ty. I realize this means you’d have to ask for a leave of absence from your employer. If you need me to make a call or even to see somebody personally, I’ll do it.”
When Ty remained silent, Buck said, “If a leave of absence puts your present job in jeopardy, I’d be willing to subsidize a private clinic here in Tallulah, Ty. That’s how bad I need you. You have any heartburn about being in business in your hometown?”
“I’ve still got family there,” Tyrone said. “I guess you know that.”
“To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure.” After Buck had left Tallulah, he’d lost touch with Ty, who had been an athlete—a good one—but had never quite made it to the pros. From the time Buck was a boy, Oscar Pittman, Ty’s daddy, had been employed by the Whitakers operating and repairing machinery at Belle Pointe. Buck and Ty had played together, gone to school together, been busted for smoking together. They’d done a few other things together that Buck didn’t like to think about. Only by the grace of God and Ty’s mother, Frances, they hadn’t wound up as outlaws. The woman was a saint.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, Ty, but I’d count it a personal favor if you’d consider my offer. I know you probably have a life in Memphis—”
“Like a wife and eight kids?”
“Holy—” Buck stopped himself. “Are you serious?”
Tyrone laughed. “Gotcha goin’, didn’t I? No kids, but I married Lily Thigpen, you remember her, don’t you?”
“I do. Lucky you.”
“She keeps reminding me. You say your lady’s okay after the crash? I’ve seen her at the games and she’s nearly as pretty as you are.”
“Anne. I’ll introduce you when you get here.”
“Sounds good.”
“So, you like the plan? You think you can wrap up things there in Memphis and be in Tallulah within, say a week or two?”
“For a chance to add to my credentials a patient whose name is as big as Buck Whitaker’s? I think I can manage that.”
For the first time in the conversation, Buck relaxed. “Then here’s my cell phone and the number of the Jacks sports medicine director who can give you the technical details of my injury and will no doubt tell you the treatment regimen he recommends, which you can decide to follow or not. Name’s Steve Grissom.” He reeled off the numbers and waited as Ty wrote them down. “Give it a day before calling Grissom, okay?” he added.
“Why? I assume the Jacks are okay with this?”
“They don’t know about it yet.”
“Whoa now, Buck! How can you—”
“I’ll handle it. And Ty…”
“Yeah?”
“I know what I’m asking is a lot, so I’m prepared to put my promises in writing. We’ll have a contract, all right and tight and legal. You think it over and if you decide it’s too risky or you just don’t want to go there, I’ll…well—”
“You’ll think of another incentive,” Ty said with a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, probably. But if you do this, I’ll owe you and I won’t forget it, Ty, I swear.”
“I’ll hold you to that, buddy.”
Five
On her way to the Spectator, Anne impulsively decided to stop at Beatrice’s shop. She’d probably be recognized, but now that Pearce had outed her at the gas station, she might as well satisfy her curiosity about her stepmother’s place of business.
A bell tinkled over the door of the Hodge-Podge as she entered and somewhere in the back of the store Beatrice called out, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“It’s just me,” Anne said, wandering over to a display of pottery. She had always loved pottery and had once joined a class to learn the craft, but like other projects she’d undertaken, she’d had to quit when Buck’s career forced yet another move. Somehow, she’d never re-enrolled.
“What a nice surprise,” Beatrice said giving her an affectionate hug. “You’ve decided to come out of hiding.”
“Might as well since my cover’s blown,” Anne told her. “I had to stop for gas and who else but Pearce pulled up at the same time. He assumes Buck is here with me and hasn’t bothered to call his mother.”
“Seems a reasonable assumption. Did you explain?”
Anne sighed. “No, I lied. More or less. I didn’t admit Buck was still in St. Louis. I thanked him for his invitation to Belle Pointe and told him Buck would be in touch.”
“Naughty girl.” Beatrice clicked her tongue and wagged a finger at Anne.
“I know,” Anne said with chagrin. “You can believe I’ll soon
