“Coward,” I said, and I remembered that Harvey Branscom had called him the same thing the morning before. Harvey had been right.

“Burn in hell,” Scot said, and then Hollis slammed the door on him.

Vernon was still standing there when they pulled away.

“You do anything but take my key when I leave, I’ll slap you with a lawsuit that will bankrupt this motel,” I said. I knew damn good and well I’d locked the interconnecting door. “If any harm comes to me, my brother will see to it. Any harm comes to him, our lawyer will do it.”

He didn’t say anything, but he watched me with old, hostile eyes while I shut and locked my door. I picked up the bag of food from Subway. Luckily, I hadn’t gotten a drink, since I had bottled drinks in the ice chest in my room. Vernon probably would have had me arrested for defacing his property if I’d spilled a Coke on his green carpet.

I shoved a chair under the doorknob and moved the ice chest against the connecting door. It wouldn’t hold the door, but it would slow down an entrance and provide noise. I used my cell phone to call Art in Atlanta, and I left a detailed account of what had just happened on his answering machine. Just for the record.

I was so lonely I cried.

Then I ate the food in the bag, not because I wanted it (it was nasty and cold by that time), but because I had to have fuel. I peeled off my clothes with shaking fingers. I was a mess; I’d had sex and a fight in the same evening, and I needed a shower. I looked at myself in the mirror over the sink. My ribs were already turning blue on my left side where Scot had gotten in the two good punches. I breathed deeply, trying to decide if I had any broken ribs. I didn’t think I did, after a few experimental movements.

It gave me some satisfaction to think that if it had been a bad day for me, it had been a worse day for Scot. He’d turned from being football team quarterback and suitor for Mary Nell Teague into a soon-to-be felon. Hurt pride had done it; that, and a bribe, I figured. I could conjecture he’d felt embarrassed after the morning incident. The coach had probably made him feel like a fool, after the sheriff had called him a coward. Instead of taking their words to heart, he’d gotten angry, and when he’d been offered money, he’d jumped at the chance to recoup his self-esteem. It was one of those situations where you learn what you’re made of. Unfortunately for Scot, it turned out he was made of lesser things.